Twit and Git
by Sassy SOBettes
Summary: *DONE!* Fallon Anderson and Cassius Warrington: Constantly at each other's throats as children. Will they EVER stop arguing? No. But maybe, eventually, they will stop hating each other. MAYBE. Chaptered SOB-fic!
1. Chapter 1

Impertinence seemed to be Fallon's middle name.   
  
Meiya Anderson sighed as she braided her daughter's hair into two neat plaits. The girl was still, but Meiya knew better than to think that Fallon was feeling docilely calm and decorous under the blank facade.   
  
"Now, remember, when we go to Diagon Alley today, I want you on your best behavior. There will be no throwing of books, sending sparks with your new wand, or kicking of Cassius Warrington, is that understood?"  
  
Fallon's face, in the mirror, pouted. Cassius Warrington was an icky, icky BOY. And he was MEAN! "Fine," she muttered to her mother. 'But you said nothing about punching him," she thought to herself gleefully.  
  
"And no punching him either!" Meiya sternly added. Fallon glowered.  
  
Icky rules. Icky Cassius Warrington. Icky icky icky.  
  
***  
  
Fallon sighed for the umpteenth time as her mother led her through Flourish and Blotts after the two had flooed to Diagon Alley. Mum just didn't UNDERSTAND!   
  
Okay, so she was friends with Portia Warrington. SO?! That didn't mean that she had to be friends with Mrs. Warrington's son. Cassius was a git, had been that way since they'd met two years ago, and her family, after living in France for the last two years, had moved back to England. Fallon's first memory of that obnoxious boy... well, after their parents had introduced them and all that, had been of him splashing water from a puddle (it had rained that morning) onto her white skirt. Things had gone downhill from there, and half an hour later, a greatly dismayed Mrs. Anderson had rushed outside to see both kids lobbing mud at each other, all while yelling at each other with words that little children their age were NOT supposed to know.  
  
Any and all subsequent attempts by the parents to make their children get along had failed miserably. If Fallon thought Cassius was an icky git, he thought of her as a troublesome little brat, and that was that.   
  
"Portia! THERE you are!" Meiya quickly walked over to a tall, elegantly robed witch with shining dark brown ringlets. Fallon rolled her eyes. Here we go... enter the git.  
  
True enough, as Meiya and Portia kissed each other's cheeks, Cassius Warrington poked his head from behind his mother and sneered at her. She stuck her tongue back at him. This was not FAIR! He was almost three inches taller than she was, he could look DOWN on her! Fallon seethed and gave him her most menacing glare anyway.  
  
The clearing of a throat interrupted their staring contest, and Portia was giving Cassius the same stern look that Fallon often received from her own mother (mothers were daft, honestly). "Cassius, now, be good and say hello to Fallon."  
  
Cassius pouted for a moment, and then smiled in a sweet way that boded very ill for her indeed, and proferred a hand for her to shake, "It's CORKING to see you again, Fallon."  
  
Fallon looked at him suspiciously, but before she could ask him what the bloody hell he was trying to pull, her mother had pushed her forward, and she found her hand clasped in his. EWWWW! What WAS that? A moment later, she pulled her hand away, and looked up to see him smirking down at her just before her mother pulled her out of the store, Meiya's arms full of Fallon's new schoolbooks. She looked down to her hand, and found, in her palm, a slimy puddle of flobberworm mucus.   
  
Wiping her hand on her handkerchief, Fallon silently plotted revenge. That... that PRAT was going to get it!  
  
***  
  
Three hours later, Fallon was getting her potions supplies at the Apothecary when Cassius Warrington once again disturbed her little world.   
  
She had just finished buying the supplies for her first year when she felt someone tugging on one of her braids, and heard a familiarly obnoxious voice whisper, "Hello there, pigtails!"  
  
She narrowed her eyes, and dug her hand into her pocket. She'd brought a little spare change, originally intending to spend it on candy, but...  
  
"Two scoops of beetle eyes, please," she said to the Apothecary witch through clenched teeth. Laying ten knuts on the counter, she took her newest purchase....  
  
AND DUMPED IT ON HIS HEAD!  
  
... The only thing that prevented Fallon Anderson and Cassius Warrington from engaging in a free-for-all in the Apothecary was the witch sternly threatening to send them Howlers when they both arrived at Hogwarts, and telling them to leave her store if they could not behave.  
  
Despite the altercations of the day, the two seemed to have an unspoken agreement: Cassius would remain silent about the beetle eyes if Fallon didn't snitch on him about the flobberworm mucus.  
  
And that day, when both of them went home, they remained unscolded by their oblivious mothers, and free to plot in peace for crimes to commit after arriving at Hogwarts.  
  
***  
  
On the momentous day that would take her away from her large family home at to Hogwarts, Fallon Anderson stood alone but undaunted on the platform of nine-and-three-quarters. All right. She was a first-year, and she did not really know anyone around here. But she was NOT going to ask Cassius Warrington for ANYTHING! EVER!  
  
Soon, the Hogwarts Express pulled into the station, and Fallon struggled to lift her trunk onto the train. She was just about to let out a string of words that a little lady such as herself should NEVER know, when another girl, already in her robes, with a green and silver tie that marked her as a student of Slytherin house, walked forward and offered to help her.   
  
"Thanks," Fallon gave the girl a smile, as both of them lifted the trunk onto the train, "I'm Fallon Anderson, what's your name?"  
  
"Morrigun Lennox," the other girl had a smooth, cultured voice with an aristocratic drawl, "I'm in Slytherin, second year." Fallon unconsciously grimaced to herself.  
  
"You poor thing, you're the same house and year as the GIT..."  
  
Morrigun laughed, "Which one? There's lot of them around here, even in Slytherin."  
  
Fallon pointed at Cassius Warrington, who was talking with a tall second-year boy with dark hair and blue eyes. "HIM!"  
  
To her surprise, Morrigun giggled lightly, "Oh, he's cute, isn't he?"  
  
"Warrington, CUTE?!" Fallon's eyes bulged out slightly. Morrigun looked somewhat taken aback.  
  
"OH, you were talking about WARRINGTON? I was talking about the one he's talking to, Alexander Montague," she blushed somewhat, "I'm sorry about that. Warrington... I don't know him too well, but he's friends with Alexander. Alexander is awfully nice, though."  
  
"Right, I'm sure he is," Fallon muttered, rolling her eyes, "He's TOO nice if he can be friends with THAT git... aren't Slytherins supposed to be all scary and cunning and stuff?"  
  
Morrigun laughed lightly again, "I think I like you already, Fallon. Come on, let's get a compartment."  
  
***  
  
Soon, Fallon found their compartment filled with girls. Morrigun's friends Akasha Noctifer and Malice Haughton, also second-year Slytherins, joined them, as did a few first-years like herself: a vivacious-looking girl named Kate Le Fay, a serious one named Persephone Vafer, a bubbly one named Calypso O'Delle and a girl with an irrepressible grin, named Slainé Rosemond. By the time the train had arrived at Hogsmeade station, all eight were fast friends.  
  
To her surprise, though she was certainly not the oldest of the group (what with Morrigun, Akasha and Malice all a year above her, Fallon found herself the unofficial "leader", the most decisive and dominating of the group. She did not think much of it. After all... she had just started out, and at least now, she had friends. Life was good.  
  
Then, she and the rest of the first-years were separated from Morrigun, Akasha, and the rest of the returning students, put into a line by a bespectacled witch, and led to stand in front of a stool on which sat a raggedy old hat. Fallon wrinkled her nose slightly. That thing was so FILTHY-looking...  
  
The hat broke into a rather ridiculous, weak rhyme talking about how it could think, and how it had been around since the days of the founders. Fallon rolled her eyes. All right already! Could she get just get sorted and have something to eat? She didn't want to hear about some old hat extolling its own virtues!  
  
Then, the witch with the spectacles, whose prissy expression Fallon disliked on sight, took out a list, and called out her name.  
  
"Anderson, Fallon!"  
  
***  
  
Cassius Warrington watched as "the little brat" swept forward with an air of childish dignity and an expression of haughty bravado as McGonagall called out her name. He'd spent half the train ride ranting to his friends Alexander Montague and Adrian Pucey of the fiasco at Diagon Alley, and bemoaning that "the annoying little twit" would be at Hogwarts this year. Montague and Pucey had been rather amused, and the former had remarked lightly that it could be worse; at least she was a girl, and generally, girls were relatively genteel compared to boys.  
  
Warrington then spent the second half of the train ride explaining why the word "genteel" and the name Fallon were not to be used in the same sentence.  
  
His friends had mustered up sympathetic looks, but their expressions were still too amused for his liking. He turned from his thoughts to watch Fallon's dark head disappear under the Sorting Hat, and muttered under his breath, "Not Slytherin, please... ANYWHERE but Slytherin!"  
  
"SLYTHERIN!" the hat screamed a mere few seconds after being lowered over Fallon's head. Warrington groaned aloud.  
  
As Fallon got down from the stool, handing the ugly hat perfunctorily back to the bespectacled witch, she saw Cassius Warrington groan and bury his face in his hands. With a maliciously angelic smile, she bounced over to his table.  
  
"Hello, Cassius," she chirped in a syrupy-sweet voice, "I look forward to spending the next six years driving you nutters." Giving him another beatific grin as he glowered at her, Fallon sat down next to Morrigun and watched the rest of the sorting.  
  
Later, after Kate, Persephone, Calypso and Slainé had all been sorted into Slytherin, along with two boys, Kevin Bole and Vittorio Derrick, the Headmaster had a few words telling the students to stay out of the Forbidden Forest, and other such rules that Fallon was sure that, by the time she had left Hogwarts, she would have systematically broken. And then, at last, food appeared on the table.  
  
Good.  
  
All throughout dinner, Cassius Warrington found himself methodically bombarded by peas at random intervals as he tried to eat, but whenever he looked at Fallon, she would be eating her food like the perfect little lady that she wasn't, and perhaps talking to one of the girls. The Prefect, Rodney Pritchard, was entirely oblivious. To that day, Warrington had no idea how Pritchard had gotten that position.  
  
Another pea hit the side of his head, and Warrington clenched his teeth. That's bloody it! He was going to HATE the little wench for as long as he lived!  
  
Perhaps it was a good thing that he was never going to take Divination.  
  
***  
End Chapter One  
***  
  
*G* That was FUN!! More soon! Love ya, SOBettes! 


	2. Chapter 2

Their Common Room was in the Dungeons, Fallon soon found out. It was rather different from the other Common Rooms, which were all located in towers, but Fallon appreciated uniqueness. Rodney Pritchard the Prefect led them to an ornate picture of a snake-charmer, and uttered the word, "Reptilian."  
  
Next to Fallon, Morrigun shook her head and muttered to herself, "You'd think that a Slytherin would come up with a much less OBVIOUS password..." Fallon snickered lightly, and Pritchard turned and glared at the noise.  
  
Unphased, Fallon glared right back at him. As other students filed past Pritchard through the portrait hole, the first-year girl and the 5th-year boy found themselves having a glaring contest. Fallon fixed her scowl unblinkingly on the 5th year boy, determined to stare him down. First Year or no, she was NOT going to be bloody stepped over, not even by a Prefect!  
  
"Hey Fallon, got a new crush, I see..." an obnoxious voice reached her ears, and Fallon spun around, glaring contest forgotten, as Cassius Warrington sneered at her. She turned her scowl upon him instead.  
  
"Why, you jealous? Oh I'm sorry, Warrington, I didn't know that you fancied him," she retorted, then smiled as a few students burst out laughing. She gave Warrington an almost-flirtatious wink, side-stepped the still-glaring Pritchard, and walked through the portrait hole after a tittering Kate.  
  
As it was quite late in the evening already, Fallon did not get a chance to explore the Common Room in detail before it was time for bed. She merely took in the classic elegance of the enormous room, with the silver and crystal chandeliers, the green marble panels, the silver-tasseled velvet couches and chairs, and ebony tables and bookshelves around the place, and smiled before she followed the other girls down the few steps leading to the dormitories. This place was just as nice as home... well, a certain unnamed swarthy git aside.  
  
As she changed into a green satin nightgown and brushed her teeth in the girl's lavatory, Akasha, next to her, gave her a mischievous smile, "Someday, you're going to end up fancying Warrington. See if you don't!"  
  
Had her mouth not been full of toothpaste, Fallon would probably have shrieked something extremely profane right then and there. As it was, the washroom walls echoed with laughter as Fallon, flailing her toothbrush wildly, glared at the older girl, who darted out a moment later, still giggling merrily.  
  
Fallon scowled as she stalked into her dormitory. Fancy Cassius Warrington? Was that even bloody POSSIBLE?  
  
***  
  
The first class that Fallon went to the next morning was Transfiguration, with the bespectacled witch, someone who introduced herself as Professor McGonagall.   
  
That venerated professor somehow found Fallon's response of "Yes, I'm physically here" when her name was called for attendance objectionable, and told her not to be insolent. Fallon shot Kate, who was sitting next to her, a "what-the-devil-I-was-NOT-being-insolent!" look, and Kate shrugged. The class just went downhill from there.  
  
Although Fallon did a tolerable job of changing her ladybird beetle into a button (albeit a button with antennae), the teacher seemed to find her an unsatisfactory student, and when Fallon, somewhat irked, had rolled her eyes, the teacher took a point away from Slytherin for disrespect. Fallon seethed all through History of Magic until lunchtime, when a sympathetic Malice had told her not to worry; she could earn the points back somewhere else.  
  
***  
  
That "somewhere else" turned out to be Potions class, in the afternoon. The First-year Slytherins had potions with the Hufflepuffs, and the first thing that Professor Snape, Potions Master and head of Slytherin house did after taking attendance, was to fire out a random question to quiz the class.  
  
"Can somebody tell me... what type of poison can be found in the seeds of apples?"  
  
Fallon grinned and raised a deceptively dainty hand into the air, the same time as a priggish-looking Hufflepuff boy with limp mousy hair. Professor Snape's eyes settled on her, and he nodded.  
  
"Cyanide, sir."  
  
Snape gave a half-smile, "Good... very good, Miss Anderson. A point to Slytherin. Now, can anyone tell me where else one can obtain cyanide?"  
  
Once again, the Hufflepuff raised his hand, as did Fallon. Once again, Snape ignored the boy, and called on Fallon.  
  
"Cyanide is also found in the seeds of bitter almonds, plum, peach and cherry pits."  
  
"Excellent, another point to Slytherin." Fallon glowed, and smirked across the room at the Hufflepuff, who was looking miffed.  
  
Snape went on to assign them a common cold potion, quite easy to make, with only seven ingredients, to be done in class, in pairs. Fallon worked with Kate, and led the process.   
  
Finally, as she added the last ingredient (a chopped snake gallbladder) and watched the potion simmer a pale gold, Snape walked by and gave an approving nod, taking her cauldron up to the front of the class and telling everyone to see the perfect color and consistency of the potion, awarding Slytherin house another three points.  
  
Fallon got more than a few glares from the Hufflepuffs, and the boy who had been so pointedly ignored said, quite loudly, as they filed out of the potions lab, "Slimy teacher's pet Slytherin."  
  
A moment later, Fallon's fist had connected with his stomach, and the boy found himself lying on the ground. The other Hufflepuffs raised a ruckus, and Professor Snape, wearing an angry scowl, stormed out of the classroom, demanding to know what was wrong. The boy, blubbering, pointed at Fallon and declared that the little bint had punched him. Snape had looked from one to the other, and then asked Calypso, who was standing behind Fallon, exactly what had happened.  
  
The cheerful-looking girl replied, in an arch, lilting voice, "He insulted Fallon and called her a 'slimy teacher's pet Slytherin', and Fallon felt it necessary to make him aware that it was an unwise and impolite thing to impugn her honor."  
  
"I see," Snape muttered, "A point from Hufflepuff for your provocative name-calling, Holden. Anderson, do try to avoid fighting in the hallway in the future if at all possible."  
  
"Yes, sir," Fallon chirped in her best 'good-girl' voice, "I will not fight unless necessary, sir."  
  
"Good. Off with you lot, the 5th-year Ravenclaws and Gryffindors are coming." Snape walked back into the potions lab, and the Slytherins sailed away, blithely ignoring the death-glares of the Hufflepuffs. IF those pathetic pseudo-threatening looks could even be called that.  
  
Their house really WAS the best house.  
  
***  
  
Things soon settled into a routine. Fallon went to classes: scowled through Transfiguration, dozed through History, went through Charms and Herbology and Defense Against the Dark Arts at a decent pace, breezed through potions, ate her meals, did her homework, talked with the girls, and quarreled with Cassius Warrington. Pritchard the Prefect soon gave up trying to stop these quarrels, after one time when both Fallon and Cassius had turned upon HIM and told him to sod off, they weren't finished, blast it! The Anderson/Warrington spats generally lasted for half an hour every evening, until one out-insulted the other, and triumphantly swaggered away. They were generally harmless, for neither Fallon nor Cassius did anything to anyone else but each other. An older boy and a Chaser on the Quidditch team, Marcus Flint, took to tallying "wins" in the daily spats, and posting the tally on one of the walls.   
  
It was all a harmless form of entertainment for the rest of the house, so no one stopped them.  
  
The months flew by, and soon, the world outside was covered with snow, and it was Christmas. Both Fallon and Cassius received numerous presents from their parents, as well as long, stern letters reminding them that it was Christmas, do NOT be mean to each other!  
  
The very next day, after the receipt of said letters, Warrington dipped Fallon's hair, which was down and draping over the chairback, into a cup of eggnog, and Fallon snatched said cup out of his hands and threw it at his head.  
  
It took the combined efforts of Morrigun, Montague, Malice and Pucey to stop the two from having a brawl in the middle of the Common Room.  
  
***  
  
By the end of the year, Fallon Anderson went home satisfied. She had passed all of her classes with decent marks, even the ruddy Transfiguration, gotten the highest marks in her year in Potions, and all of the girls left King's Cross station with promises to owl each other over the summer. Of course, Warrington was still a git, and always would be.  
  
Oh well, one needed some constants through life.  
  
***  
End Chapter Two  
***  
  
Wheee! More soon!! *muah* to all SOBettes! 


	3. Chapter 3

Summers for the Anderson family were always spent in France. Fallon's paternal grandmother had been a Frenchwoman, and she had left her eldest son, Fallon's father, a townhouse in Paris in her final will and testament. Grand-mère Blanche had died when Fallon was two, but the house remained, and every summer, they would go there.  
  
Thankfully for both Fallon and Cassius, the Warringtons spent their summers in Italy. Portia had been a Zabini, a member of a prominent Italian wizarding family, and so, the two bickering youngsters spent their summers away from each other, and there was no carnage.  
  
Well, apart from the Howlers that they'd sent to each other at the beginning of the summer, after which neither of them were allowed to contact each other in any way, shape or form for the rest of vacation.  
  
In France, Fallon met another vacationing young girl, a year younger than herself, named Ravyn De Borgia. Ravyn was going to start at Hogwarts that year, and the two girls spent many a happy hour discussing what subjects each liked the best, etc. Ravyn was looking forward greatly to Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Fallon spent some time going over what she'd learnt in that class her first year.  
  
It was also nice to receive owls from her friends. Some of them, like her, were vacationing at various spots on the continent, while others were in England still. In any case, Fallon enjoyed receiving, reading and responding to their correspondence. It was good to know that when she went back to school, she'd be going back to a group of friends.  
  
Soon, it was time for her return to England, and the trip to Diagon Alley to get her school supplies for that year. And... for the altercations with Cassius Warrington to resume. It was too much to hope that he got nicer over the summer, since all the summers that she'd known him, he had only gotten progressively more annoying.  
  
***  
  
Thankfully, that summer, she managed to avoid putting up with him (the git grew another two inches! This was UNFAIR!) for too long, excusing herself from her mother when Morrigun, Kate, and the rest of her friends turned up. As soon as Meiya Anderson had given Fallon permission and money to go purchase her school supplies with the other girls, Fallon have given Cassius an airy wave and a parting shot of, "Try not to miss me too much, Cassius!"  
  
"MISS you? Why should I miss YOU?!" Warrington had yelled back, but she was already gone, amid a gaggle of giggly girls. Scowling, Cassius Warrington went off as well to find Montague and Pucey, who were meeting him at the Quidditch store, where there was a beautiful display of the latest broomstick, a Nimbus 2000.  
  
No bloodshed or conflict occurred until late in the afternoon, when Fallon, after saying goodbye to her friends, had stopped at Florean Fortescue's for a strawberry ice cream with chocolate sauce. She'd made the mistake of taking her eyes off it for a second, and then, when she took another bite of it, spat it out, revolted. Someone had poured soy sauce all over the ice cream! She'd looked up, and of course, there was Cassius Warrington standing across from her, laughing.  
  
He ended up with strawberry ice cream on his shirtfront.  
  
***  
  
That year, five boys got sorted into Slytherin: Vincent Crabbe, Gregory Goyle, Draco Malfoy, Tarquinus Nott and Blaise Zabini. Millicent Bulstrode, Ravyn De Borgia, Ai Easterling, Xanne Malloy, Pansy Parkinson and Jeannie Taylor also got sorted into Slytherin. However, probably the most famous incoming student of the year, Harry Potter, was sorted into Gryffindor.   
  
Ravyn, who already knew Fallon, and Xanne, who already knew Calypso, joined the group of girls immediately. Ai and Jeannie, after a few moments of hesitation and an encouraging smile from Fallon and Morrigun, joined as well. Millicent seemed wholly unconcerned with anything but her food. Pansy, on the other hand, sniffed haughtily, and turned her entire attention onto the blonde boy Draco Malfoy. Ravyn gave her a dirty look.  
  
"Who does she think she is, anyway? And sucking up to a boy in such a manner as that... HONESTLY!" Ravyn glared at the dirty-blonde girl, and turned back to Fallon with a sly grin.  
  
"Not that I can blame her one bit," she whispered slyly, "He's got really nice eyes, don't you think?"  
  
Fallon shrugged indifferently, "I guess so."  
  
Ravyn gave her a conspiratorial look, "So, which boy here do YOU fancy?"  
  
Before Fallon could say that she did not fancy ANY of them, Akasha, sitting across from Ravyn, piped up, "Him!" The third-year girl grinned gleefully, and pointed a finger at Cassius Warrington, sitting several seats away in between Alexander Montague and Marcus Flint.  
  
"I do NOT!" Fallon screeched indignantly, "He's the world's biggest GIT!"  
  
The entire group of girls laughed, and Cassius Warrington turned around to smirk at Fallon, "So you fancy me, eh, pipsqueak? Too bad you're just a skinny little twit. Try fancying someone else."  
  
"I am NOT! And I DON'T fancy you! ICK!" Fallon glared at him, her fist clutched around her fork as if it were a weapon. She was NOT a skinny little twit! And she did NOT fancy... THAT! What an utterly HORRID idea!  
  
Kate turned to the confused-looking Ravyn, Xanne, Ai and Jeannie with a wry smile, "Our Fallon's rather easily riled up where Warrington is concerned, she says she hates him."  
  
"Ooh..." Ravyn nodded sagely, and smiled at her friend. Fallon was still glowering, though she was now looking at the chicken leg in her plate.  
  
"I DO hate him," she muttered, "He's an absolute GIT!"  
  
It seemed like this year would not be much different from the last.  
  
***  
  
The next evening, the girls, as usual, sat together in a group in one area of the Slytherin Common Room. The new first-years had lots to say about Potions class with the Gryffindors.  
  
"Snape quizzed Harry Potter in class today!" was the first thing that Fallon heard from Ravyn, during dinner.   
  
"Oh? And?" Fallon was curious. SHE had been quizzed last year. Was the Boy-Who-Lived any good at an easy class like potions?  
  
"He didn't know any of the answers," Ravyn said dismissively. "Draco, on the other hand, did an excellent job with the potion that he had to brew." Ravyn flashed a brilliant smile at that boy, who was sitting a few seats away with Crabbe and Goyle. He gave her a brief smile and nod before turning back to his meal. Pansy Parkinson glared at Ravyn, and the latter blithely ignored the pug-faced girl.  
  
"Oh, give Harry Potter a break, Ravyn," Xanne spoke up from Fallon's other side, "The questions were rather unexpected. I'll bet MOST people wouldn't have known."  
  
"What were they?" Kate, sitting across from Fallon, asked in a curious voice.  
  
"Something about asphodel and wormwood... mixed together or something," Ai said indifferently.  
  
"The Draught of Living Death?" Fallon mused aloud.  
  
"Yes, that's it, how'd you know?" Jeannie asked curiously.   
  
"She has no life and spends half her day with her head stuck in a cauldron," Cassius Warrington, who seemed to have caught the tail end of this conversation, answered.  
  
"SOD OFF, WARRINGTON!" Fallon shouted, flinging an orange slice at his head. It hit him on the cheek, and had Professor McGonagall not glared at them in the "one-more-move-and-it's-ten-points-from-Slytherin" way, there would likely have been a food fight.  
  
Akasha turned to Morrigun, who was seated next to her, and whispered, "For someone who hates a bloke, she certainly cares a great deal about everything he says."  
  
***  
  
The year continued with certain things remaining the same way that they'd been before. In other words, the girls were still fast friends, Fallon and Warrington still quarreled every evening, and Professor Snape still tended to favor his own house. However, there were some other occurrences that were rather odd. First of all, Potter, the Gryffindor Golden Boy, was somehow allowed to participate as the Gryffindor Seeker despite being a First-Year student, and even given a Nimbus 2000. Fallon personally thought that this was an unfair break for the boy. Boy-Who-Lived or no, he should not have any special privileges around the school, but obviously the McGonagall bint thought differently.  
  
The first Quidditch game of Slytherin against Gryffindor was a very strange and eventful one. The Slytherin Quidditch team was performing up to its usual standard, and Potter, in the middle of flying, nearly fell from his broomstick. Fallon rolled her eyes. WHY again was he on the team?  
  
But.... in the end, through some freakish accident in which Professor Snape caught fire, Professor Quirrell got knocked practically off the stands, and Potter clambering back onto his broom... Gryffindor won. Potter nearly swallowed the snitch.  
  
***  
  
The rest of the year passed somewhat more excitingly than last year. The Slytherin students, bent on gaining back the points that Gryffindor had won through its Quidditch wins, buckled down and earned extra points in classes whenever possible. For a time being, Fallon and Cassius even set aside their bickering... to a degree.   
  
Well, now, it was more of a competition of who could score more points for Slytherin house. One day, Fallon would float back to the Slytherin Common Room after having gained 30 points for making a perfect and complicated potion. The next, Cassius would swagger in having earned the same in Charms. There were less lengthy quarrels in the evening, seeing as to how they busied themselves trying to beat each other in earning points instead.   
  
Of course, there were still snarky comments and glares every time they took a break from trying to best each other.  
  
And of course Akasha STILL thought that it was all a cover-up for some absurd sort of attraction.   
  
And of course, both the parties in questions thought that Akasha was either being deliberately crazy, or had some sort of very strange wishful thinking.  
  
***  
End Chapter 3  
***  
  
Woo-hoo! Think that's enough of this for today? ~.^ 


	4. Chapter 4

By the end of her second year, Fallon had concluded that the Gryffindors got too many lucky breaks.  
  
Sure, Harry Potter and friends lost 150 points breaking a hundred school rules and roaming about at nighttime in the Astronomy Tower. But of course, because of some more rule-breaking and roaming even after all those lost points, Potter managed to defeat Quirrell, the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor who had been possessed by Voldemort, and earned back all those points. Gryffindor won the House Cup, more or less, because of the Headmaster's favoritism.   
  
Fallon rolled her eyes and muttered to Ravyn, who was sitting next to her, "And they say Snape is bad..."  
  
Ravyn nodded emphatically and turned to fix her sympathetic, "Gryffindors-Are-Gits-And-I-Know-How-You-Feel" green eyes upon the pouting Draco Malfoy.  
  
***  
  
The summer after her second year had been quite good to Fallon. Finally, she had started growing taller, and her face started looking less childlike and more defined. She stopped wearing her long, dark hair in two plaits, opting instead to clip it back at the nape of her neck. Meiya Anderson, at the various summer soirees that they had, would look at her daughter, impeccable in dress robes of light, airy lawn or linen, and give a half-smile, half-sigh. Fallon would be a beautiful woman someday... if only she could act more ladylike at times! Sure, being a strong and independent spirit was very well and good: Meiya had personally seen to it that Fallon started learning Martial Arts at age seven to ensure she remained strong, disciplined, limber and graceful all her life. But... the girl could be so feisty!  
  
Fallon, at the moment, neither knew nor cared about her mother's musings. They were once again in Diagon Alley, and despite the fact that she had grown two inches over the summer, Warrington was STILL three inches taller than her! He was also unbearably cocky: his friend Alexander Montague and himself had both made it onto the Slytherin reserve team, and from what he had heard, there would be a new Seeker that year... one who had provided the entire team with the best brooms available on the market.   
  
Fallon was heartily glad for the team, but decided that she would NOT congratulate the GIT in any way, shape or form.   
  
Something else that was new this year for her was the fact that, as a Third-Year, she would now be allowed to go to Hogsmeade. Excellent! Now, there would be joke candies to be bought and slipped into Warrington's food on a regular basis!  
  
Soon enough, she met with the rest of the girls, all studiously avoiding the grinning Gilderoy Lockhart signing books at the front, in Flourish and Blotts. Morrigun, who was quickly blossoming into lovely young-womanhood, was reading a book on the History of Magic, in French, and the rest were looking around for their schoolbooks. Kate was starting Divination that year, and after she had found her books for her elective, she had met up with Fallon and Kevin Bole, who were both starting Arithmancy. She immediately started having a conversation with Kevin about the wizarding statutes against Giants, and the two walked off, still talking rapidly. Fallon listlessly rifled through the shelves, and was about to go to the counter with her purchases when a very-excited Ravyn De Borgia swept into the store, her green eyes glittering.  
  
"I just got news!" was the first breathless thing that came out of her mouth, "I'm sure that you've ALL heard by now that the Slytherin Quidditch Team is going to get a shipment of seven Nimbus 2001 broomsticks. Well, it's all the doing of Draco's father. AND... he's going to be their new Seeker this year! Higgs left, and now he's in." Ravyn grinned happily at the other girls, whose looks ranged from mild surprise to blank indifference to shock.  
  
"Where'd you get the news?" Fallon asked the younger girl curiously. Ravyn's smile widened.  
  
"I just met up with Draco outside Gringotts, and he told me himself!" Ravyn paused for a moment to gloat, "He did NOT tell the snifty little Parkinson brat. Oh, and sorry for being late, but I was detained."  
  
The girls all smiled wryly amongst themselves, and Fallon went to pay for her purchases.  
  
***  
  
Before it had been a month into the term, it was quite apparent that things would be rather different this year.  
  
For one thing, the Slytherins were quickly able to deduce that Gilderoy Lockhart, their ostentatious new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, was entirely useless. Most Slytherin students, therefore, spent the time in that class the same way that they might spend in History of Magic.  
  
In short, they would make caricatures of things talked of in class, with prizes for the most cunningly and wittily depicted one. Morrigun usually won.  
  
Also, students here and there were becoming Petrified. There was something vague but menacing going around the school, attacking students of impure blood. Most of the school was scared witless: It had to be one of two possible culprits...  
  
Either Harry Potter, because the Boy Who Lived seemed to be a Parseltongue...   
  
Or it was a conspiracy of the Slytherin students.   
  
Both ideas were ridiculous, needless to say. Potter couldn't have been the Heir of Slytherin; if he was, he would never have made friends with that prissy Muggleborn Gryffindor witch.   
  
As for a conspiracy of the Slytherin students... not bloody likely! Fallon couldn't say for the less highly-evolved specimens of their species... a certain Crabbe and Goyle came to mind... but SHE, and all her friends for that matter, had better things to do with their time than such inane things as petrifying students of other houses.  
  
Although, in the whole mess, being Slytherin and (therefore) pure-blooded seemed to be beneficial. None of the students attacked by whatever it was... had been a member of their house.  
  
There were times that Fallon reflected, half-regretfully, that Cassius Warrington did not get frozen. He was STILL too annoying for words.  
  
This would all change sooner than she would have thought.  
  
***  
End Chapter 4  
***  
w00t! And another one! Onto 5, my darlings! 


	5. Chapter 5

"There she is!" Fallon heard the hisses starting in the morning as she walked into Transfiguration with the Hufflepuffs. She sneered at the ones whispering.  
  
"Yes, here I am. Is there something the matter?"  
  
"If it's not Potter, it's you." One of them had the bravado to blurt out. "You're nasty, even for a SLYTHERIN!"  
  
Behind her, Kate, Persephone, and Calypso glared menacingly at the Hufflepuffs, Persephone, the Charms whiz, already had her wand out, daring any of them to continue. Fallon, however, merely smirked, "Thank you, I hever thought that I'd hear a decent compliment from a Hufflepuff, guess I was wrong."  
  
The Hufflepuffs drew back in a terrified sort of revulsion, and Fallon gave them a feral grin, making sure to draw her wand with a sword-fight flourish when class began.  
  
***  
  
"Hey, bint!" A voice stopped her in her tracks as Fallon made her way towards the library after class. Fallon deliberately took her time turning around, slowly, boredly, until she was facing a frantic-looking boy about a head taller than her, with suspicious, piggy eyes.  
  
"Do you have a reason for wasting my time?" Fallon drawled in her most superior, bored voice.  
  
"Why were you terrorizing my brother's class today?"  
  
"Why are YOU talking to me? Is your ickle brother pissing his pants for fear of the big, bad Slytherin?" Fallon rolled her eyes, "Good. He SHOULD." Deciding to be particularly malicious, she gave the boy the same feral grin that she'd given the Hufflepuffs in Transfiguration that morning, "Maybe you'd better watch out for the little pillock..."  
  
She was about to turn away when the boy had strode forward and grabbed her collar with both hands, "How DARE you threaten Jeremy?! What did he ever do to YOU?!"  
  
Fallon calmly and quickly put one hand over, and another under his arms, prying them apart and using his momentum to shove him back a few feet, "Whoever said I threatened him? Perhaps you would like me to? That can be arranged, I'm sure. I'll look into it the next time I see him, good day." She turned around, and continued towards the library.  
  
Only to be shoved roughly aside a moment later. Fallon was just about to launch into a tirade against whoever had shoved her when the rush of heat that could only come from a spell zooming past grazed her cheek. A moment later, a suit of armor down the hall clanged violently and tumbled over. Almost simultaneously, a large, warm hand had yanked her wrist out of the hallway and into the library.  
  
"Don't YANK me!" she hissed, then her eyes narrowed when she saw who it was. Warrington? What the devil was this all about?  
  
But before she could say another word, angry voices from the hallway reached their ears. Filch, who had been in a positively murderous mood since that ugly cat of his had been petrified, was yelling at the boy.  
  
"Reckless destruction of school property! That'll be detention tonight, boy!"  
  
Fallon blinked, and turned confused, dark eyes to look at "The GIT". Said git was not even looking at her, but through the ajar library door. A moment later, when Filch and the boy had disappeared, he turned to her with a smirk.  
  
"Never turn your back, Anderson. Bloke was about to hit you with the Jelly-legs Jinx. Bye, then." And before Fallon could get a word in, edgewise, he had strode out of the library.  
  
Fallon stared in astonishment for a moment after his retreating figure before a look of great discontent entered her face.  
  
"What? Now I OWE you one? Warrington... you bloody BASTARD!"  
  
***  
  
It was a very morose Fallon Anderson who brushed her hair the requisite hundred strokes before bed that night. The story of the incident with Warrington had been relayed to the girls, with many a scowl and sigh. This was, in Fallon's eyes, nothing short of TERRIBLE. He actually did her a FAVOR... which meant, as any self-respecting witch or wizard knew, that she owed him a debt. In short, she would not be able to do anything mean to him until she had repaid this debt.  
  
"I have to be NICE to him! Imagine..." she had wailed to the girls as they'd done drying charms on each other's hair after taking their showers.   
  
"Oh, how utterly AWFUL..." Morrigun had laughed.   
  
Fallon nodded emphatically and mournfully, "I know!"  
  
That had incited another round of giggles. Akasha, who had somehow managed to install a velvet chaise lounge in a rich blood red in the room, laughed.  
  
"I tell you that you two will be together before he leaves Hogwarts! And it's already starting, see?"  
  
Fallon balked and made a face, "I do not want to contemplate that truly frightening idea, thank you very much."  
  
***  
  
This uncomfortable state of affairs remained for three agonizingly long weeks. Fallon was increasingly miserable: having to be POLITE to Cassius Warrington was intolerable! She had to bite her tongue every time she addressed him, to stop words such as "speccy git" from popping out. She had taken to avoiding being in the same place as him altogether, so as to not burst at the seams from insults dying to break out.   
  
Kate had suggested that she spend more time with Morrigun; the classically educated, regal 4th year girl probably had the most aristocratic, well-bred manners in the whole school.  
  
It did not work. Fallon only came out of the experience in more agony, her mind now filled with Old English and Latin insults that were just begging to be used upon a certain Cassius Warrington.  
  
***  
  
Fortunately for Fallon, an opportunity to repay her debt to Warrington came one afternoon when she heard a flaming row going on in the corridor. Running over to see what was going on, she saw the detested Warrington throwing punches at a boy from Gryffindor. The two did not even notice her, in their fury. She managed to decipher, through the yells, the words, "You've no RIGHT to call her a twit!"  
  
Cassius Warrington had been coming out of the library when he'd heard someone saying, "And those Slytherin bints! Watch for THEM! Especially that little twit Anderson girl, she's in line with MALFOY and them, and I heard that Snape loves her, too!"  
  
They dared call Fallon Anderson a TWIT?! Who the hell did they think they were?! THEY had never been the recipient of the many ill-natured pranks and words that he'd had to put up with for years! The person who had spoken had seen him a moment later, and he'd sneered, saying that if they thought Fallon Anderson was a twit just for her usual behavior around the school... well, he, Cassius Warrington, had no idea how they'd gotten into the 'House of Bravery'. The boy had then attacked him.  
  
And there was McGonagall, coming down the hallway, spectacles flashing furiously.   
  
"WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?!"  
  
Fallon's eyes widened, and she blurted out the first thing that came into her head, "Professor, it's my fault. I put Cassius up to it."  
  
Both boys, especially Warrington, goggled at her, but remained silent. Fallon put on her best contrite expression, and faced the indignant Professor.  
  
"I put him up to it, Professor. It's my fault that this happened."  
  
Professor McGonagall looked at her suspiciously, and Fallon gamely held her gaze. Finally, with a harrumph, the Transfiguration teacher took a point from both houses for fighting in the hallway, and assigned Fallon a detention the next night to package medical supplies for the Infirmary.  
  
Later, a perfectly happy Fallon Anderson floated to the Slytherin Common Room with a big smile on her face. The first person she saw was Malice, sitting by the fire, playing a game of chess against Adrian Pucey of the Quidditch team.  
  
"I heard McGonagall gave you a detention, Fallon," Malice called out, "That's too bad."  
  
"Oh, it's spiffing!" Fallon chirped back in a sing-song voice, "I don't have to be nice to the git any more!"  
  
Malice turned to Pucey, a grin on her face, "I'll never understand the way her mind works."  
  
Adrian laughed lightly, "I don't think anyone expects to. Except perhaps Warrington."  
  
"Probably."  
  
***  
End Chapter 5  
***  
Wheee! More coming soon! 


	6. Chapter 6

The debts had been repaid, and things were back to normal between Fallon and Cassius. Well, normal in the sense that they were once again bickering on a regular basis, and therefore content.   
  
Except there seemed to be a difference in their bickering, ever since each had helped the other out. True, Warrington was still the only one who could succeed in making Fallon lose her temper completely, for the girl, though easily aggravated, generally kept her cool for the sake of dignity. And Fallon still went out of her way at times to make sure that he remembered her promise when she'd just started out, to spend the next six years driving him nutters. But... the bantering back and forth had made an indefinite shift towards the benevolent.   
  
It was rather strange how it happened, but the jibes had lost their mean nature.  
  
For the others, it was all very amusing.   
  
That summer, when the term was over (with exams canceled due to more Harry Potter heroics... or rather reckless antics, as the Slytherins were wont to say), Fallon and Cassius left for vacation in a fairly benevolent mood towards each other.  
  
***  
  
The summer came, and there was news that Sirius Black, the most infamous prisoner ever to be incarcerated in Azkaban fortress, had somehow escaped from prison. None of this mattered particularly much to Fallon; it wasn't like crazy life-threatening things ever happened to Slytherins. If Sirius Black was out for blood, it would not be hers, or any of her friends'.   
  
It happened to be that period, in a girl's life, when time flew by like a brisk wind, and she seemed slightly more grown-up with each new day, blooming like a rose in early summer. The girl-child Fallon Anderson who had left the school at the beginning of the summer was not the same as the Fallon Anderson who returned to Diagon Alley in August.  
  
It seemed as though she was not the only one to undergo a transformation over the summer. When she had met up with the girls, every single one was surprised to see everyone else: they had all gotten taller, and many of them were in line to get new, fitted robes and uniforms from Madame Malkin's.  
  
Warrington had given her a rather odd, "Who-the-hell-are-you-and-what-did-you-do-with-skinny-twit-Fallon" look when they'd met in Diagon Alley. But he seemed rather more concerned and excited about the fact that this year, he was officially a Chaser on the Quidditch team than anything else. There'd been many new additions to the Quidditch team that year: Vittorio Derrick and Kevin Bole were playing as Beaters, as Warrington was a Chaser. Unlike Warrington, Alexander Montague, also newly made Chaser, seemed rather bowled over when Morrigun, newly made Prefect, had smiled at him. The usually gentlemanly, unflappable Montague had blushed slightly, and the girls had grinned to themselves. before Morrigun had given him a coy wave, and all of them had filed into Flourish and Blotts.  
  
***  
  
Fallon soon found out, after the start of the term, that there were great advantages to being friends with the Prefect. For one thing, Morrigun had her own room, a large, elegant boudoir in true Slytherin splendor, which she willingly allowed all of them to congregate in. Akasha's couch had been brought in, and the girls had spent a good amount of their spare time helping Morrigun decorate.   
  
Early on in the year, Malfoy got injured by a Hippogriff in Care of Magical Creatures class. The girls spent several hours debating the seriousness of the injury, and denouncing Pansy Parkinson, who used the opportunity to throw herself at him in a most undignified, grotesque manner. Ravyn seemed particularly annoyed, but Malfoy had been seen to smirk and roll his eyes at her fawning, and the girl was somewhat appeased.  
  
One day in mid-January, Akasha returned from her classes with a mischievous grin. "We had a most INTERESTING Divination lesson today," she remarked that evening in Morrigun's room.  
  
"That's news," Xanne snapped. She had started the class that year and disliked it immensely, for Trelawney kept on making gruesome predictions for everyone's future and particularly lugubrious ones for Harry Potter. "What did the oversized arthropod have to say today?"  
  
Akasha gave a smirk towards Fallon, "She was just walking by, and she said to me, 'Be aware of the actions of your friends, Miss Noctifer. Quarrels hide the love that resides in their hearts.' Now... who could THAT be referring to?"  
  
Almost reflexively, Fallon seized a pillow and threw it at Akasha, hitting her in the face. "Oh, you're asking for it!" The older girl seized another pillow and threw it back at Fallon, who ducked. The pillow hit Ravyn instead, and within minutes, the room filled with shrieks of silvery laughter as the girls, nearly women, went back to childhood for a while, indulging in a pillow-fight.  
  
Just as Fallon threw a lawn-covered feather pillow at Xanne, who was standing close to the door, the door opened, and the pillow hit Alexander Montague squarely in the face. The pillowcase tore, and feathers flew everywhere, a lot of them settling in Montague's hair.  
  
There was dead silence, and the girls looked, owl-eyed, in shock. Morrigun was mortified.   
  
A moment later, a bemused Alexander Montague was bombarded by an earful of profuse apologies, and then, found himself and Morrigun alone in the room. The other girls seemed to have disappeared right after they'd apologized.  
  
"Well... " he started. Morrigun, blushing furiously, walked up to him, waved him to a couch, and hurriedly started brushing feathers from his shoulders and head. Montague blushed as well, and cleared his throat somewhat nervously before speaking, "Er... may I have a word with you, Morrigun? I... wanted to talk to you about something..."  
  
***  
  
"I suppose I best go and apologize to Montague, and help Morrigun clean up her room," Fallon sighed somewhat about five minutes after she and the girls had scampered out of Morrigun's room. Getting up from her spot by the fire, she walked back to Morrigun's room, and opened the door.  
  
... Only to see Morrigun and Montague, sitting together on a couch, the latter holding the former gently in his arms as they kissed. It took them only a moment to realize that they had an audience, and they sprang apart, faces scarlet.  
  
But not half as embarrassed as Fallon, who face-faulted and backed away, stammering, "Er... sorry, don't mind me... just.. carry on..." before shutting the door and rushing back to the Common room, her eyes wide.  
  
"What's the matter, Fallon?" Kate remarked curiously when she'd stumbled back, looking as though she'd just been asked by Sirius Black to join him for a spot of tea.  
  
Fallon pointed a shaking finger at the general direction of Morrigun's room, "M-Morrigun... Montague... s-snog..."  
  
She was nearly trampled when the girls all leapt up from their seats and rushed back towards Morrigun's room to listen at the door.  
  
***  
  
"I'm so terribly sorry," Morrigun remarked a few moments (and snogs) later, "About the feathers, and Fallon bursting in..."  
  
Alexander smiled down at her, caressing her cheek with one hand, "No harm done, ma belle ange." Then there was silence, which could only have been the effect of more snogging, and the girls outside the door grinned.  
  
Finally, Alexander pulled away somewhat, and whispered, "I'll see you tomorrow, then."  
  
Morrigun gave him a nod and a dreamy smile, and he got up, shaking the last of the feathers from his hair, and walked towards the door. He pulled the door open, and Akasha, who had been leaning against it, fell inwards.  
  
More mortification of all involved parties ensued.  
  
It was much, much later when the girls, after apologizing and hugging Morrigun, cleaning up the feathers, and pumping that particular girl for details, finally went to bed. As Fallon shut the green velvet curtains around her, she reflected that it was very well, after all.  
  
In the Morrigun-Montague excitement, people had forgotten about Trelawney's preposterous prediction.  
  
***  
End Chapter 6  
***  
Wheee! More soon! 


	7. Chapter 7

Tensions grew high when the Quidditch final, Slytherin vs. Gryffindor, rolled around. At least once a day, Slytherin and Gryffindor students would find themselves engaging in hallway altercations. Fallon had been tripped, insulted, and had her hair pulled by three separate Gryffindors.  
  
All three had ended up on the ground in momentous amounts of pain, and realizing that a girl who packed a brutal punch like a cobra strike and had the quick reflexes of a cat was perhaps not the best person to pick a fight with.  
  
The day of the game, the girls trooped to the Great Hall for breakfast, every last one of them wearing green. Morrigun gave Alexander Montague many whispered words of encouragement, and the others, following suit, wished the team well. Ravyn gave Draco a brilliant grin, and Akasha went so far as to lean over and give Flint a kiss on the cheek before telling him that she had nothing but the highest regard for him and the rest of the team. Flint's tanned face had reddened for a brief moment before he'd smirked and thanked her.  
  
Fallon politely wished every team member well, and then, when she came to Warrington, she gave a half-smirk, and said, "Don't make me ashamed to call you my enemy, git."  
  
No higher, more benevolent words could have been spoken.  
  
***  
  
A few hours later, the Slytherin Common Room was full of disappointed students. It had been so... so CLOSE! Draco had seen the snitch first, had been chasing after it when Potter had caught up, and by dint of having a superior broom, Gryffindor had won the cup. Xanne, Ai, Calypso and Persephone seemed relatively calm, saying that the Lions had put up a good game, as did their team. Morrigun and Montague had gone to the library to sit and talk (and likely do) more pleasant things. Akasha had gotten permission from Morrigun to borrow the use of her room, and was lending Flint a 'shoulder to cry on'.   
  
Fallon sat alone in a corner of the Common Room, brewing a potion in a small, collapsible cauldron.  
  
Cassius Warrington walked over to where she sat, and pulled up a chair next to her. Maybe annoying Fallon would take his mind off that game.  
  
"Who're you going to poison?"  
  
"No one yet... but thanks for the idea. Feel free to volunteer," Fallon replied, not even looking at him. He felt the beginnings of a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. Snarky bantering with Fallon: just what he needed after a bad day.  
  
"I think I'll pass for now... where're the others? Did you scare them off?"  
  
"Not quite, but I'm afraid that I can't give them what their current companions can. Well... I suppose that it would be possible if I were very creative about it... but I'm afraid that I don't fly on that side of the Quidditch pitch. Now, if you are not going to do anything but sit there and be annoying, sod off, I'm busy."  
  
Warrington watched her in silence for a few moments, as she used a small knife to cut an unidentifiable root into thin slices before adding it to the cauldron. The potion emitted a cloud of ice-blue smoke, and simmered the color of sapphire. Fallon glanced at her watch, and started sifting in a fine white powder.  
  
"What're you making anyway? I've never seen that potion before," he remarked.  
  
For some reason, this prompted the girl to smirk. "I see... Not having any luck with the girls, eh?"  
  
"Huh?" Warrington was completely mystified. Fallon chuckled.  
  
"Contraceptive potion. If you didn't know what it was, obviously you're not having any luck with the girls."  
  
This caused him to sputter, and look at her with wide, suspicious eyes. "Who're you shagging, Fallon?"  
  
She laughed, "Shagging? What makes you think that I am shagging anyone? It's not for ME... But... what do YOU think Flint and Akasha are up to in Morrigun's room?"  
  
Warrington groaned, and buried his face in his hands. "BAD mental image there... I did NOT want to know..."  
  
"Your own fault for asking about the potion," Fallon said sweetly, before focusing entirely on crushing fangs, pointedly ignoring Warrington.  
  
***  
  
The year drew to a close. Sirius Black was supposedly captured, and vanished again. Professor Lupin was exposed as a werewolf. Despite the fact that he had not harmed anyone, he resigned from his position, and many students, particularly Gryffindors, were sad to see him go. Fallon had mixed feelings about the issue; he had been a fairly good teacher for a former Gryffindor, certainly much better than Lockhart. But, she supposed, there was always the danger that he could harm someone on a full moon.  
  
Professor Snape had been the one to tell the students what Lupin was, after months of making him Wolfsbane potion to keep him from being a threat to others. The Slytherin students assumed that Snape had grown tired of brewing potions for him, and that, added to his dislike of all Defense teachers, had prompted the Potions Master to expose his fellow staff member.  
  
Ravyn had joked that it was too bad; if Snape had grown tired of making the potion, he should have asked Fallon to make it. Fallon had rolled her eyes, saying that Ravyn was making her look like some bloody Ravenclaw or something.  
  
Soon, it was summer again, and everyone left the school for vacation. Fallon went to France, and idly wondered if next year would be much different from previous years.  
  
She had absolutely no idea what was in store for her.  
  
***  
End Chapter 7  
***  
Whee.... more soon! 


	8. Chapter 8

During one of the numerous soirees that occurred every summer, Fallon found out some astonishing news.  
  
That day, a distant cousin, Philippe Callais, had come to call with his mother Iolanthe. Arrière-cousin Philippe was the grandson of Grand-mère Blanche's brother Maurice, two years older than her, a student going into his seventh and final year at Beauxbatons Academy. He had played with her time to time when she'd lived in France, so it was nice to see him again.  
  
He'd taken a walk with her. Teased her a bit about her rusty French. Asked about her life at Hogwarts. Philippe had been very amused indeed when he'd heard of her antics with (against) Warrington.  
  
"He must be a very brave and patient person," he'd remarked to her in French, earning him a light slap, "I look forward to meeting him in the fall."  
  
Fallon blinked. Meeting Warrington in the fall? How? Warrington went to Hogwarts, and Philippe to Beauxbatons. Philippe saw her confused look, and gave her a confidential grin.  
  
"We will be seeing you. Students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be coming to Hogwarts for a very special event."  
  
Ask though she might, he refused to tell her more.  
  
***  
  
About a week after that, it was time to return to England, and prepare for school. That year's school supplies list had included dress robes, and Fallon was sure that, whatever reason they were on there, must have something to do with the visit that Philippe had mentioned.  
  
Because she'd grown another several inches, now standing tall and graceful at five feet eight inches, she had arrived at Diagon Alley early that day, so that she could get fitted for dress robes.   
  
She was certainly not the only one in the store doing so. When Fallon had walked in, Madame Malkin had given her a quick smile, and then turned back to where Ravyn De Borgia stood on a stool, her blossoming figure draped in yards of luxurious taffeta of a rich green shade. Madame Malkin waved her wand, and the flowing fabric molded itself into stylish dress robes, with a scalloped neckline that showed off the graceful lines of the girl's throat, and short butterfly sleeves.  
  
Kate, too, had been fitted with dress robes. But where Ravyn's had been forest green, hers were a royal blue shade, with a voile overskirt and long voile sleeves woven with golden threads. Fallon complimented both her friends on their robes, and soon enough, it was her turn to be fitted.   
  
Madame Malkin rifled through several bolts of fabric, muttering to herself, before she paused at a bolt of crimson silk. The witch's eyes had lit up, and soon, Fallon found herself wrapped in the opulent, blood-red material. Madame Malkin gave the robes a square collar, an empire waistline and no sleeves, trimming the robes with black piping and lace.   
  
"There, dearie. You look a picture," Madame Malkin beamed, and Fallon stepped forward from the back to show her friends her robes.  
  
At that moment, the door to the shop opened, and... was that Cassius Warrington? Since when did the GIT look... well, for lack of a better word... grown-up? Fallon blinked, not sure if her eyes were playing tricks on her, and then, he noticed her as well. For a few moments, he, too, looked confused, and then... yes, it was Warrington. He was giving her the 'Hello, twit' smirk.  
  
Accordingly, she gave him the 'Right back at you, git' sneer. They stared at each other appraisingly for a few moments, and then he spoke, 'Well, you look different."  
  
"Thank you for stating the obvious, Warrington, I'm wearing bloody dress robes," she retorted, raising an eyebrow.  
  
"Bloody. How apt a description for them," he'd deadpanned, taking in the color. Fallon rolled her eyes, then turned to Kate and Ravyn, who gave her approving smiles. A moment later, she had stalked back to change into her normal robes.  
  
Warrington blinked and stared at the spot where she'd just stood. Blimey... was... that... Fallon?! All right. So it had been a few months since he'd last seen her. But that was NO reason for her to become... well, ATTRACTIVE. She was supposed to be a skinny twit with a sharp tongue. Okay, so the sharp tongue was still there. But... what the HELL had happened to her during the summer to make her look like THAT?  
  
There was a light giggle, and he saw Ravyn De Borgia and Kate Le Fay giving him knowing smiles. He gave the two girls half-hearted glares, and pulled himself up from the spot he'd been standing in, to look for a new winter cloak.  
  
***  
  
During the Starting Feast, Fallon found out what it was that going to happen that year. At long last, after many, many years of not holding it, there would be a Triwizard Tournament. There would be someone from Hogwarts competing, as well as from Beauxbatons Academy and Durmstrang Institute. Delegations of students from both schools would come at Halloween.   
  
That year, there would be no Quidditch. Fallon noticed Warrington look somewhat disappointed at first, but then, after Dumbledore had announced that there would be an opportunity for any student 17 and above to try out, he'd regained his spirit. She'd rolled her eyes slightly, but... ah well, someone had to try out for Slytherin, and if Cassius Warrington was willing to stick his neck out for it, she'd certainly not stop him.  
  
That year, there was once again a new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. This time, the gnarled, beaten face of the man at the High Table was familiar to some students. Former Auror Mad-Eye Moody. Some of the students in Fallon's house had family that had... run into trouble with him before. She noticed Draco Malfoy and his goons, as well as Tarquinus Nott, giving him very guarded looks. Snape, as well, was looking at Moody with a mix of dislike and fear.   
  
Fallon knew of the man, but not like those others had. Sure, the Anderson clan was wealthy, influential and pure of blood. But none of them had ever grovelled to Lord Voldemort. And, well... Fallon didn't know about anyone else, but SHE would not grovel to the fellow. After all... for someone to be defeated by a baby, and a Gryffindor baby at that... what was the POINT in joining him, really? Let alone the fact that she was never one to 'grovel'.  
  
It looked like this would be a very eventful year, she reflected.  
  
She had no idea how unfortunately right she was.  
  
***  
End Chapter 8  
***  
  
More later! Merry Christmas, everyone!! 


	9. Chapter 9

The foreign students arrived on Halloween. The Beauxbatons students, as Philippe had told her they would, came in a huge carriage drawn by giant flying horses. Among those were Philippe Callais, and a stunning blonde girl with a rather haughty expression, whose name Fallon later found out was Fleur Delacour.   
  
The Durmstrang students did not arrive by flying carriage. Rather, they came in a ship that emerged from the middle of the lake. The rest of Hogwarts looked at them rather suspiciously, as they looked at the Slytherins, but Fallon's house welcomed them. Among that group was probably the most famous student present, outside of the Potter boy. Viktor Krum, Seeker of the Bulgarian team that had competed in the Quidditch World Cup, slouched towards their table with the rest of his schoolmates, and though the other houses still looked at both the Durmstrang and the Slytherin students with suspicion, Fallon caught more than one envious glance directed at their table for being chosen to host Krum.  
  
A few days after the arrival of the foreign students, a Goblet of Fire was placed on the High table, for students of age 17 or above to enter their names for competing in the tournament.  
  
Warrington got up one morning fairly early, and dropped his name into the Goblet. Needless to say, the Slytherin students all hoped that he'd be chosen; even Fallon, who never agreed with anything he said or did on principle, conceded that a Slytherin student representing the school would be preferable to someone from the other houses.  
  
And then, when it was time to announce the champions, there was a great shock.  
  
The Delacour girl who by then already had a significant portion of the males in the school drooling after her was chosen to represent Beauxbatons.  
  
Viktor Krum was chosen to represent Durmstrang.  
  
And Cedric Diggory, Hufflepuff pretty boy, was chosen to represent Hogwarts...... but then, the Goblet of Fire shot out ANOTHER name.  
  
Fallon supposed that it could only be expected that Harry Potter, being underage aside, would be chosen.  
  
***  
  
The next few weeks, the school was in a blur, as students speculated wildly about how Potter managed to pass through the Age line. Draco Malfoy and several Slytherins younger than Fallon started a virulent Anti-Potter campaign, wearing badges that flashed the words "Support Cedric Diggory, the REAL Hogwarts Champion" as well as the words "Potter Stinks".   
  
Xanne would be rather annoyed at these antics, saying that obviously, Potter couldn't have crossed over the line himself, and it wasn't exactly his fault that he was going to be competing. Fallon, for her part, simply rolled her eyes and refused a badge when offered one. HONESTLY! Rivals with Potter or not, it was a bit TOO undignified to support a Hufflepuff pretty boy JUST to irritate the Boy-Who-Lived.  
  
But really, none of this affected her very much until the day of the November Hogsmeade visit.  
  
***  
  
Fallon had stayed behind that day. For extra points to their houses, she and Hufflepuff student Kyle Holden had been asked by Professor Sprout to harvest the extract from certain plants to make certain potions for the Infirmary. She had agreed, primarily due to the fact that, with the Support Diggory badges, several Slytherins had gotten points taken by indignant Gryffindor Prefects. She disliked Holden greatly, and he returned her animosity; the two had been enemies since their first Potions class together their first year.  
  
So, Fallon and Holden worked in stony silence in the greenhouse, collecting the orange goo from the plants that Sprout had specified. Finally, after she'd collected the required five vials and left them in the box that Professor Sprout had left for them, she stepped back a little bit and raised an arm to brush some loose hair from her face.  
  
And in a split second, found herself trapped. Her moving arm had brushed against a large, climbing plant, which had then shot out vines around her wrists and ankles, holding her immobile. Fallon frowned. What the devil?  
  
"Oi, Holden, a Severing charm right now would be nice!"  
  
But Holden, when he saw her tied down, stopped, and his eyes took on a malicious look. He advanced on her, a smile of ill intent on his face. Fallon narrowed her eyes.  
  
SLAP!!  
  
His hand caught her across the face. Fallon felt her eyes water, but resolutely blinked it away. NEVER in her life had she been slapped before!  
  
"Not so tough now, are you, bitch?" he ground out, "That was for punching me first day of school."  
  
"How very courageous of you," Fallon felt a hint of trepidation, but managed to keep it out of her disdainful voice, "To slap a lady, and one who is tied down at that! You'd never DARE to come close to me otherwise!"  
  
"Perhaps," he mused, then leered at her, "But since you ARE tied down... For a bitch, you're not bad-looking..." His hand reached out for the top of her robes, and gave a hard yank. There was the harsh sound of ripping fabric, and then, he shoved himself forward, pressing his body indecently against hers. His hands were brutal on her body, pinching, scratching... Fallon found herself panicking as she struggled against the assault... this was WRONG! No matter what she did, she did NOT deserve this! NO! It wasn't supposed to be like this!   
  
Her uniform blouse had been ripped open, and his left hand was straying under the skirt while his right pulled harshly, painfully on her hair. There was hardness against her stomach, and Fallon squirmed and struggled, screaming on the top of her lungs. But there was no one there, and no one heard her.  
  
And then, just as he was about to yank her skirt entirely out of the way, her struggling caused one of the vines to loosen from an ankle. Fallon gave a half-sigh, half-sob of relief, and acted on the fighting instinct that she had honed for years. Quickly and sharply, she brought her knee straight up, and Holden froze before falling to the ground, howling in pain, his voice an octave higher than the usual. But by now, she was beyong caring, beyond gloating. He was off of her, and with the last burst of strength from her body, she tore herself away, vines and all, and ran out of the greenhouse.  
  
She did not see anyone in the hallway on her mad dash to the Slytherin Common Room. Most students were still at Hogsmeade, and had she been capable of coherent thought at the moment, she would have been grateful that there was no one around to see her like this. The tears started, and she could not see.  
  
She choked out "Ars longa, vita brevis." to the snake charmer, and rushed headlong into the Common Room, to her home, her sanctuary, where she could rage and scream and cry, and it would be okay someday.  
  
***  
  
Cassius Warrington was alone in the Common Room. There was going to be a nigh bloody impossible test in Advanced Arithmancy on Monday, and he had forewent the Hogsmeade so that he could finish going over his notes for it. He was just putting away his books when someone stormed into the Common Room, and he heard the sharp gasps of someone crying too hard to breathe properly.  
  
Surprised, he'd turned around, and felt his shock grow tenfold. A girl. Tall, slender, dark hair. Fallon Anderson... in most cases, he'd have a snarky remark on the tip of his tongue. But when he saw the state she was in... there were friction burns on her wrists, which were encircled by torn, dirty vines. Her robes and unform were both torn, the pale skin visible through the rips marred with bruises. There was a hand print on her face, where it looked like she'd been slapped. Fallon... crying?  
  
What in the world had happened to her?  
  
"Fallon?" he said rather uncertainly.   
  
She had not even really noticed his presence until he had uttered her name. But when he did, she gave a blind spring forward, launching herself into his arms. He stumbled backwards, eyes wide, as her small hands fisted around handfuls of his robe, and she buried her face in the crook of his neck, crying bitter, broken tears.  
  
Bloody hell.  
  
Sure, at any other time, having a beautiful woman throw herself in his arms would be quite the happy occurrence, but Warrington was, at the moment, too shocked to think about that. There was only one thought going on in his mind. 'Fallon... crying?' In all the years that he had known her, he had never seen her shed a single tear, nor had he ever seen her clinging to anyone, much less him, like he was the only thing that kept her from falling over a precipice or drowning beneath a raging ocean.  
  
And so, he did the only thing he could. Somewhat uncomfortably, he put his arms around her and let her cry it out, trying to figure out just what had happened to her.  
  
Finally, the tears subsided somewhat, and she caught her breath, gulping in the burning cold air. He loosened his hold on her, though her body still shook with the dying sobs, and asked her what had happened.  
  
There were footsteps outside the Common Room entrance, and her eyes widened fearfully. "People... coming... not here..."  
  
Warrington sighed and half-led, half-carried her to his dormitory, and sat down on his bed, with her in his lap. "All right. You're not supposed to be here, and Morrigun's going to have my head. Now spill."  
  
Her tongue didn't seem to be working properly. She could not form complete, coherent sentences, but in between her gasps and the choked-out phrases, he could make out the words, "Holden... greenhouse... vine... imprisoned... slap... tried to... tore free... "  
  
His brain processed the meaning of her words, and his hands clenched into fists. That... bloody... BASTARD!  
  
No one... NO ONE was allowed to make Fallon cry. Hell, he'd beaten up someone, once upon a time, for calling her a twit. But no one was allowed to make her cry.  
  
He would deal with the bastard tomorrow, but for now, he had to calm and comfort HER as best he could.  
  
And so, he held her as her breathing finally slowed, and her body stopped shaking. It was likely a few hours, but he had no sense of the time. When he finally looked down at her, he saw that her eyes were closed, and that she had fallen asleep.  
  
And she had not let go of him.  
  
***  
End Chapter 9  
***  
  
Poor Fallon ;_; 


	10. Chapter 10

She was tied down, strapped so tightly that the bindings cut into her skin. The skin was wet at the bindings, and it stung, though she did not know if it was sweat or blood. She was alone, and she couldn't move. She was not free... not free... not free!!  
  
And it was dark as ink. Dark as blood, and just as thick. She could not see or hear anything. But she KNEW that someone there was lying in wait. And that she was going to fall into an eternal hell for sins that she had never committed.  
  
Then there was hard, cruel laughter. The laughter of control. She was controlled. There was nothing... NOTHING that she could do. He could hurt her in any and every single way he wanted to.  
  
She was tied down, helpless, and she was going to hell.   
  
Once again, brutal hands ripped at her, tearing, gouging, bruising, scarring... and it was not right. And she could not save herself.  
  
She was controlled. And she was in hell. And she could not save herself.   
  
***  
  
Fallon sat bolt upright in the darkness, bathed in cold sweat, her eyes wide and wild and panicked. She had no idea where she was: this was not her bed. She was just about to scream when there was a soft whisper of "Lumos", and she found herself staring into Cassius Warrington's eyes.  
  
She looked at him, startled, trying to make sense of the situation and figure out what he was doing there, lying on a bed, obviously startled out of sleep, but fully dressed. And then, it all came back to her, the events of yesterday, and she started to shiver.  
  
He ran a warm hand somewhat awkwardly down her back, in and out of the tangled silk of her hair, and her hands, sore from how tightly they had been clenched around his robes, loosened slightly as she slowly calmed.  
  
"Hush, it's okay. You're safe now... well, unless you wake up Montague the next bed over and he tells your Prefect friend," he said, half-jokingly, "In which case... we're both doomed. So, be quiet, hmm?"  
  
"What... time is it?" she asked, her voice somewhat hoarse from the crying and the screaming earlier. He glanced at his watch.  
  
"It's four in the morning, you should sleep some more," he whispered back. He was not quite sure if she would prefer to stay here, or to go back to her own dormitory. And he looked at her, a woman-child... well, really a woman now, but with her hair mussed, her eyes wide and afraid, and her lips trembling, tearstains and bruises marring her face. Her robe and uniform, both torn, really revealed more than he or anyone else had any right to see. And once again, he made a mental note that Kyle Holden, the bastard, would PAY for hurting her.  
  
She was beautiful. Painful beauty. Beauty that hurt. And he didn't quite know what this was, or what to do with her.  
  
She seemed, however, to have a mind of her own, for the hands that had been fisted around his robes loosened, and slid to his shoulders. And then, almost desperately, she was pressing soft, bittersweet lips against his, and in the kiss there was the taste of fear and tears.  
  
He kissed her back, almost as a reassurance that she was all right now. What words they could not say seemed to pass from lip to lip, but a moment later, a realization shot through his mind, and he pulled away, his eyes wide.  
  
"No... Fallon, Fallon, you don't mean this. Stop..." he held her at an arm's length, and two pairs of saddened brown eyes met. She looked at him silently for a moment, and then nodded.  
  
"You're right," her voice was full of a resigned sort of exhaustion, "I was just... trying to make... to make what had happened... go away. I'm sorry... for using you like that." Her voice had an almost imperceptible tremor, and he felt a strange clench in his heart. But he forced a degree of levity into his voice.  
  
"Don't be sorry," he said, "I can't complain if a beautiful woman snogs me, can I?"  
  
She gave him a forced, watery smile, and then, the weariness set in once again. Slowly, she lay back down to rest her head on the pillow, and as she closed her eyes, one small hand reached out to clasp his larger one. She was fast asleep again within moments.  
  
He watched her by wandlight, and knew that it would be long before he could fall asleep again.  
  
***  
  
Fallon awoke to a gray, chilly dawn. She blinked and stretched, then winced as the bruises on her body made protest. She looked down, and saw that she was lying in bed with Cassius Warrington. Her enemy. Her friend. Her first kiss. And she remembered...  
  
Clinging to him, desperate, scared.  
  
Kissing him in the darkness to reassure herself.  
  
Crying in his arms.  
  
She closed her eyes, and there was pain in her face for a moment, before something inside snapped, and she changed forever. When she opened her eyes again, they were different. Hard, guarded, like smooth, polished onyx. Beautiful, but aloof. No one could see past.  
  
She looked down at his sleeping face. He was frowning slightly, though the dark hair on his forehead hid some of the frown lines. He was still fully dressed, and she... oh heavens... he'd seen far too much of her, in every sense of the word.   
  
She could not let anyone see her so bared, so weak ever again. She was a Slytherin, and she knew now the darkest and basest corners of the human psyche. And she could never afford to show any chinks in her armor ever again. People were out to hurt people.  
  
Her face blank and completely devoid of emotion, she gingerly got up from his bed and silently stole out of the room.  
  
***  
  
Cassius Warrington awoke about an hour after dawn. Fallon had left, probably to go back to her own dormitory. He sighed slightly, and picked a long strand of dark hair off his pillow. His bed smelled of jasmine and sorrow, and he shook himself awake.  
  
All right. To shower and change into fresh robes. And then, to breakfast. And THEN, to hunt down a certain slimy, despicable Kyle Holden, and put him through formerly unheard-of levels of pain.  
  
***  
  
The girls crowded around Fallon that morning, all concerned and wondering where she'd been. She had shrugged, and said that she had fallen asleep somewhere else, and that she was fine, they should not worry.  
  
She was rather pale and distant, but otherwise looked all right.  
  
Fallon had spent an hour that morning carefully and methodically applying cosmetic potions and charms to conceal the bruises and tearstains.   
  
She looked flawless.  
  
Akasha Noctifer, sitting across from her, looked at her strangely. There was something indefinite, but it was there. There was something seriously wrong with Fallon that morning.  
  
A moment later, Cassius Warrington, his hair still wet from the shower, sat down a few seats away, and Akasha watched shrewdly as the boy glanced at Fallon for a moment, before he turned away, his eyes filled with a strange sort of pain.  
  
It was the weekend, and there were no classes that day. After breakfast, the girls would be going to Morrigun's room.  
  
And Fallon would need to talk.  
  
***  
End Chapter 10  
***  
  
Sad.... 


	11. Chapter 11

"Where were you last night, Fallon?" was the first question out of Akasha's mouth when the girls had returned to the sanctuary of Morrigun's room after breakfast.  
  
Fallon thinned her lips, and, as if reading her mind, Persephone shut the door to the room, fired a locking spell at the latch, and sealed the room with a one-way Silencing Charm. The girls gathered around Fallon, who was sitting on a chair in the corner of the room. Akasha looked at her expectantly.  
  
"Tell us what's wrong, Fallon. Because I KNOW that something is wrong. And tell us what Cassius Warrington has to do with it, because I also KNOW that he's somehow involved. I'm not going to leave you alone until you tell us, so you might as well just say it."  
  
Fallon looked at Akasha with emotionless eyes, "I'm fine, really. What makes you think that something is wrong?"  
  
The older girl gave her a half-concerned, half-exasperated look, "Fallon, I've known you for five years now. All of us here... we're like sisters. Please... tell us what happened."  
  
There was silence, as all of them waited for her to speak. Fallon gave a sigh, and finally spoke, in a toneless, cool voice.  
  
"Yesterday, Kyle Holden the Hufflepuff bastard and I were doing extra credit, as you know, in the Herbology Greenhouse. A plant wrapped its vines around my limbs, and he decided to take advantage of the situation. Thankfully, before he could... well... I managed to free myself, and ran back to the Common Room. Warrington was there, and saw that I was rather dishevelled, asked me what was the matter. I didn't quite feel like discussing it in the Common Room, so went to his dormitory. Dozed off, didn't wake up until this morning." Fallon's voice was impersonal and cool as she concluded the tale with a lie, "Much of it, nothing serious, really."  
  
Akasha gave her friend a piercing look, but it was obvious that Fallon had finished speaking. She rose from her seat, and undid the locking and silencing spells at the door, and walked out without another word.  
  
Eleven beautiful faces watched her somberly as she left the room.  
  
***  
  
That afternoon, Warrington found the Hufflepuff slinking down the Charms corridor.  
  
"Holden!" he bellowed, his voice full of a murderous, icy rage.  
  
The Hufflepuff looked startled for a moment, before he spoke out, "Is there something the matter, Slytherin scum?"  
  
"In fact there is," Warrington ground out between clenched teeth, advancing on the other boy with his wand drawn, "The fact that you have not required hospitalization after what you did yesterday. But THAT situation can and will be rectified immediately. CONBUSTUM INFERNIS!"  
  
And just as Holden put out the flames charring his robes with a "Finite Incantatum", Warrington hit him with three more hexes in rapid succession.  
  
"HOLD!" A clear, female voice called out, and Morrigun was rushing down the hallway, Cedric Diggory at her heels. Warrington gave Holden the Hufflepuff one more malevolent look before stepping away with a sneer.  
  
Diggory was flabbergasted, "What in the world do you think you're DOING, dueling in the hallway? Who started it?"  
  
Holden immediately pointed a finger at the Slytherin Chaser. Diggory frowned.  
  
"Is there some reason for you to attack Kyle Holden, Warrington?"  
  
Morrigun broke in, her voice icy, her lovely face twisted into a sneer. "Actually, I daresay that there was. Holden, why don't YOU tell your house's Prefect and Pin-up boy what you did yesterday?"  
  
Holden remained silent except for the moans of pain emitting from his mouth.  
  
"No? You won't? Fine, then I will. Diggory, you should keep better track of your house. This..." and here Morrigun launched into a few words in French that despite their melodious sound likely meant something quite horrible, "When a Slytherin girl had been trapped by a vine in the Herbology greenhouse, he decided to take advantage of the situation... and of her as well. Is physical assault and sexual harassment condoned in YOUR house, Diggory? It's certainly NOT forgiven in mine."  
  
Cedric Diggory gaped at the Slytherin Prefect, "You must be joking," he said weakly.  
  
"I assure you... she's not," Warrington sneered, "If you go into the Herbology Greenhouse, you will probably find a mangled vine from which the girl tore herself free before THIS bastard could rape her. And are you calling US liars, Diggory? The girl in question came back to the Common Room with her robe and uniform torn, and bruises all over her face and upper body. You might be Triwizard Champion, but this does not make your house above the laws of common courtesy."  
  
Diggory looked uncomfortable, and Morrigun spoke up again, her voice full of exasperation. "Fine. Since you don't seem to have anything to say, I will take action here. Five points from Slytherin for fighting in the hallway, Warrington. And fifty from Hufflepuff for assault. It would be much, MUCH more, but I think he's already been punished, to an extent." She and Warrington both gave the Hufflepuff on the ground pernicious glares, and then both stalked away.  
  
***  
  
"WHAT?!?" Fallon screeched incredulously, "He hexed Holden for me?!"  
  
Morrigun nodded, "Quite creatively too, I might add." The Prefect's face grew confused when she saw Fallon scowling blackly, "Is there something the matter?"  
  
Fallon glowered in silence for a moment longer, then spoke, her voice icy, "NO ONE better EVER fight for me again from now on. I can take care of MYSELF!"  
  
And so it was, that for the next month, she avoided the one who had avenged her.  
  
***  
  
Yule Ball coming up next! w00t!! 


	12. Chapter 12

It was a few weeks after the catastrophe in the greenhouse that the students were told that there would be a Yule Ball in honor of the Triwizard Tournament.   
  
Alexander Montague immediately asked Morrigun Lennox to go with him, not that this was any surprise to anyone in Slytherin house. The two were, as Ravyn De Borgia was wont to say, 'Almost too cute together to be allowed for Slytherins'. Akasha had owled Marcus Flint, who was going to pay a visit and escort her. Malice and Pucey were going together, and Kevin and Kate, though the latter two were going 'as friends'. Calypso was going, to everyone's surprise, with George Weasley of Gryffindor. Ai and Persephone were going with boys from Durmstrang, and Jeannie with a Ravenclaw.  
  
Fallon, when she'd heard of the ball, immediately thought of a certain... person who would remain unnamed... and then decided that she could not go with him, or any other student from Hogwarts. In fact, there was only one person who was sure never to harm her.  
  
And so, Philippe Callais was duly asked to escort his baby cousin to the ball. And he graciously accepted, with only one question of whether or not he should worry about any angry and jealous Quidditch players from her house. Fallon rolled her eyes and told him that he was being silly.  
  
Pansy Parkinson immediately started to tell everyone that she was going with Draco Malfoy, and this caused a bit of a disturbance. Draco, it seemed, had not originally ASKED her to go with him, but after it had been spread by Pansy that they were together, he'd written his father, who had told him that he might as well. Malfoys were not to make scenes over something so inconsequential as a date for a ball.   
  
Ravyn was rather irate, and... though she did not let it on, rather genuinely upset. Nevertheless, she accepted the invitation of Blaise Zabini graciously enough: the two were platonic friends, and shared a common dislike for the 'Parkinslut'.   
  
Fallon, when she'd heard of this arrangement, had nodded to Ravyn in approval, "Now, what you should do... is to look so stunning at that ball that Malfoy won't be able to take his eyes off of you. He'll be so incredibly envious of Blaise that he won't..." and here, Fallon's eyes took on a mischievous light, "notice ANYTHING that happens to his date... until it's made absolutely IMPOSSIBLE to ignore."  
  
Ravyn had smirked slightly at that, "And is something going to happen?"  
  
Fallon gave a catty smile, "It'll be lots of fun, I promise. And..." she paused as she glanced at Ravyn's green dress robes, then ran to her room, coming back with a jewelry box. Rifling through it, she extracted a pair of beautifully carved earrings and a matching set of set of hairpins and bracelets of moss-green jadeite, "Here, wear these. Pansy'll look like a scarecrow in a frilly apron compared to you. Just return them to me in one piece later, all right?"  
  
It was common knowledge almost immediately that Fallon Anderson was going to the ball with a seventh year boy from Beauxbatons, and Cassius Warrington did not say anything about it. He also did not ask anyone to the ball until about a week before it was to take place. And then, under constant pressure from his friends, he promised to ask a girl and not go dateless.  
  
He found Xanne Malloy in the library one afternoon, and rather curtly, asked if she had anyone particular that she wanted to go to the ball with. Xanne had shrugged, and said that the fellow was rather besotted with a girl from Ravenclaw, so at the moment, no. Warrington then asked her if she would go with him, and she agreed. It was all very cool and businesslike.  
  
And the Slytherins were ready for the ball.  
  
***  
  
Fallon and Philippe met at the entrance of the school the evening of the ball. The Beauxbatons students, led by Fleur Delacour and her Ravenclaw escort Roger Davies, entered the hall, and took their seats. Philippe had offered Fallon his arm, and an easy smile. He told her that she looked "très belle", and she had thanked him before they'd taken their seats.   
  
Fallon quickly finished her meal, and she and Philippe were among the first on the dance floor after the champions. Soon, her friends had followed, and the dance floor was full of dancing couples.  
  
Cassius Warrington took a smoke-purple-chiffon-clad Xanne Malloy to the dance floor, and the two danced in silence. His mind was elsewhere, and his eyes, for that matter.  
  
Fallon was dancing with that tall, smiling bloke from Beauxbatons, and the two were talking in low voices as they spun and waltzed around the dance floor. Well... it was not his fault for watching her. She was very attractive. And besides, she was wearing red. The color stood out.  
  
Xanne cleared her throat, and he turned his attention back to her to see her smiling somewhat amusedly. "Well, that was fun. But let's sit down for the next, and get a drink," she remarked. He nodded mutely, and sat down with her, handing her a glass of pumpkin juice and taking one for himself.  
  
"That's Philippe Callais whom she's dancing with," Xanne remarked. Warrington blinked. She chuckled. "Fallon. The bloke she's dancing with. Philippe Callais."  
  
"Oh," Warrington spoke in a noncommital voice. Xanne glanced at him, then continued.  
  
"We've met him once. I couldn't understand all that he was saying; he doesn't speak much English, but Morrigun said that he's very polite."  
  
"I see." Bully for him.  
  
"Fallon saw him over the summer. He came to call upon the Andersons, and he and Fallon spent the day together. She knew that he would be coming this year," Xanne told him.   
  
"That's just SPLENDID," he answered somewhat stonily, entirely oblivious to the fact that he was now scowling. Xanne chuckled.  
  
"Jealous much, aren't you?" Warrington didn't seem to hear her, and continued watching Fallon and Philippe dancing, the boy twirling the girl in the dance steps. Xanne laughed, "Blimey... your expression could give the Basilisk a run for its scaly scariness... he's her COUSIN, you jealous prat!"  
  
Warrington heard this last part, and choked on his pumpkin juice. Nearly spitting it out, he coughed and spluttered until he managed to swallow it. "Lord, don't DO that, Xanne! You'll take years off a bloke's life!"  
  
Xanne chuckled, "Oh, but you should get used to THAT, shouldn't you? Being with Fallon would certainly do that to you as well. Now... let's dance the next one."  
  
***  
  
Fallon and Philippe were entirely unaware of the conversation between Xanne and Warrington as they danced. Fallon was apologizing somewhat to her cousin for making him go with her; he could have gone with someone else if he'd wished.  
  
He'd waved her apology off, saying that it was the least he could do for her, and besides, she was good company. Fallon had thanked him for his consideration, and then told him that after the next dance, she had to take care of something, and he should dance with someone else, whomever he wished.  
  
He'd nodded, and soon, they parted. Fallon returned to the table, where she had a great vantage point of the entire hall. Satisfied that Pansy Parkinson was busy fawning over Draco, she twisted the decorative jewel of her necklace, which was actually a very small vial, off, and emptied the contents into the Parkinslut's drink. Ravyn and Blaise had just walked out for some fresh air, and she noticed Draco Malfoy give impatient, irritated glances at the door.  
  
Philippe, meanwhile, was dancing with Gryffindor 4th year Parvati Patil, who had been Harry Potter's date. Potter was nowhere to be seen. Fallon got up from her seat, and moved away to the refreshment stand as the song ended. From there, she watched as Pansy, dragging Draco along, returned to the table to finish her drink.   
  
A few minutes after Pansy had taken a sip from the cup, she gave a shriek as a luxuriant moustache of Weasley red sprung out from above her upper lip. One hand over her mouth, she'd run from the Great Hall. Fallon smiled to herself.  
  
And Draco did not follow her, but merely looked towards the door where she'd exited with a disgusted face...  
  
A face which changed to an irate sort of relief when, a moment later, Ravyn De Borgia, resplendent in forest green, swept back in on the arm of Blaise Zabini.  
  
Draco moved then, from the table, to Ravyn and Blaise. Fallon watched as the blond boy talked to his roommate, and then, lead Ravyn away for a dance. And she smiled somewhat to herself.  
  
Oh well, at least someone would be happy that night. Oh, who was she kidding? Almost all of them were. Morrigun and Montague were dancing gracefully together, wrapped up in their own little world. Kate and Kevin seemed to be engaged in a deep conversation. Akasha and Flint were long-gone, out in the rose grotto, 'reminiscing'. Even Philippe looked happy, dancing with the Patil girl as his best friend Julien Carsairs danced with the girl's twin sister. And she would be happy for them.  
  
"Evening, you." Fallon snapped out of her thoughts and looked up to see Cassius Warrington standing in front of her.   
  
"Evening," she replied, "Where is Xanne?"  
  
He pointed to where Xanne was sitting with Blaise Zabini, the latter gesticulating with his hands, the former laughing. Fallon nodded.  
  
"Enjoying yourself?" Somehow, being cool and civil to him was easier than before, when they'd been kids, but... also, in an inexplicable way, harder. It didn't really make sense, but she did not want to think of it.  
  
He shrugged, then gave her a mock-obsequious look, "Fair, beauteous lady, may I have the honor of having this dance?"  
  
She laughed lightly, "What are you trying to pull, Warrington?"  
  
He scowled then, "Just dance with me, twit."  
  
She gave him a smirk, and placed her hand in his, "That's more like you. All right then."  
  
And so, they shared the last dance of the evening together.  
  
***  
End Chapter 12  
***  
  
Wheee! More soon!! 


	13. Chapter 13

By some unspoken agreement, after the end of the ball, the girls all filed to Morrigun's room to gossip and talk of the evening's events.   
  
Fallon, having learnt her lesson from that mortifying experience her fourth year with Morrigun, Montague and the feathers, knocked and waited for the girl to bid her enter before opening the door.   
  
Morrigun was still in her dress robes, looking lovely in the blue-gray lawn which brought out the rich reddish tints in her curls, was removing hairpins from her head, and brushing her hair out by the mirror. The hand holding the silver hairbrush was...  
  
Fallon rushed forward, and grabbed her friend's hand. Morrigun was blushing. "Wait until the others get here..." the older girl murmured. Fallon grinned, and gave her friend a quick, impulsive hug.  
  
Akasha and Malice arrived together, the former throwing herself on her couch with a satisfied sigh. "That was soo nice," she said, stretching like a contented feline. Fallon quirked an eyebrow at her.  
  
"Will you still be able to touch unicorns, Akasha?"  
  
The older girl grinned, "Not telling."  
  
"I'll take that as a 'no' then," Fallon said to herself.   
  
Minutes later, Persephone, Xanne, Slaine, Ai, Calypso, Jeannie and a wickedly-smiling Ravyn had all arrived. Kate, usually quite punctual to everything, was not yet there. The girls glanced at each other, and Morrigun deliberately took out a small clock and waved her wand over it. The numbers were replaced with words, and the hand that had Kate's name on it now pointed to "Requisite conversation by door, complete with come-hither eyes".   
  
A few minutes later, the door to Morrigun's room burst open, and Kate rushed in, her pretty face flushed. Morrigun glanced at the clock, the hand now pointing to "Freshly snogged and blushing", and looked up at Kate with a slight smile, putting the clock away.  
  
"S-sorry I'm late, everyone," Kate was saying, "I got a little... erm... sidetracked..."  
  
Fallon raised an eyebrow slightly as she grinned at her flustered friend, whose lipstick looked rather smudged, "And would the sidetrackER happen to have the initials KB, and the sidetrackING occur due to some sort of.. 'Quidditch' discussion?"  
  
Giggles rang out in the room, and Kate blushed ten shades of red. Morrigun patted the spot next to her, gesturing for Kate to sit down, and the younger girl sat, still blushing to the roots of her nut-brown hair. Everyone looked at Kate expectantly, "So... tell."  
  
Kate paused, and then blurted out, "Kevin was escorting me back to the dormitory. At the door, he said that he'd had a marvelous time, and hoped that I had, too. I said that I did, and I leaned over to kiss him on the cheek. But somehow, I ended up kissing his lips... he'd turned his head... and... I was MEANING to kiss his cheek, honest!"  
  
The girls giggled again, and Morrigun smiled serenely, "Of course you were, darling..."  
  
"I was, I swear! We WERE only friends!" Kate exclaimed, and looked down, blushing still, but smiling a little to herself.  
  
"We know," Akasha grinned, "Are you going to be as sweet as Morrigun and Montague now?"  
  
Kate made a mock-scandalized face, "I don't think that's POSSIBLE! Morrigun and Montague... wait a minute!" She, like Fallon had, earlier, seized Morrigun's hand, "MORRIGUN LENNOX WHAT IS THIS HERE ON YOUR FINGER??"  
  
And all of the girls crowded over to see Morrigun wearing a silver ring with a sparkling sapphire. Morrigun blushed, "It's a promise ring. Alexander gave it to me."  
  
Many cheerful (and slightly naughty) questions were then directed towards Morrigun, and Fallon joked that she could FEEL her teeth decaying with all the sugar floating around.   
  
Ravyn shot Fallon a grateful look, and pulled off the jewelry that she'd borrowed, "Here's your things back," the younger girl spoke, and then smiled impishly, "And thanks for the spectacular show with Pansy. That was the most bloody hilarious thing I've seen since that time someone accidentally levitated Professor Flitwick in Charms."  
  
Fallon grinned back, "Believe me when I say that it was my PLEASURE... I'm going to go and put the earrings and things back in my room, I'll be right back."  
  
As soon as she had shut the door behind her, Xanne gave the others a wicked smile, "Warrington spent half the night drowning in envy of Philippe Callais. BE-sotted, that one..."  
  
"Five Galleons that they'll start snogging early next year," the usully-quiet Persephone piped up.  
  
Money and bets were collected and written down, and when Fallon had returned to the room, the conversation had shifted once again to Pansy Parkinson and her newly-acquired facial hair.  
  
***  
  
The Parting Feast at the end of the year was the most gloomy one that Fallon had ever had. Cedric Diggory was dead, supposedly murdered by Voldemort. Dumbledore made a speech honoring Cedric, and all of the students, of each and every house, as well as the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang visitors, raised their goblets in honor of the boy. Even Fallon, who now had an abiding hatred of Hufflepuffs in general, raised her glass in acknowledgment.  
  
Their bags were packed, and they were once again stepping onto the Hogwarts Express. Fallon, on her way back from the Prefect's compartment where she had been talking to Morrigun about her OWLS (she'd received fairly good marks, with a perfect score in Potions), bumped into Kyle Holden.  
  
And she realized that she did not fear him. He was a revolting, contemptible, despicable piece of shite, and she would never be afraid of him, or the likes of him.  
  
Holden, like most Hufflepuffs, was upset at Cedric's loss, and spent his time between blaming Potter, everyone's favorite scapegoat since he'd arrived at Hogwarts, and blaming the Slytherins, everyone's OTHER favorite scapegoat. He'd muttered something incoherent but distinctly unpleasant-sounding when he saw her.  
  
Fallon calmly sneered at him, "I'm sure your saintly Cedric Diggory is watching from Heaven right now... and he's so PROUD of you." Then, she'd just as calmly and coldly kneed him in the groin, and walked to join her friends without another glance at him.  
  
***  
  
The train ride was otherwise uneventful, except for the incident towards the end when Ravyn had found Draco Malfoy and his goons lying unconscious and hexed on the ground. The girls had dragged Draco into their compartment, and Ravyn had, with Persephone and Fallon's help, reversed most of Draco's hexes as the blond boy recounted what had happened to him.  
  
Ravyn had shaken her head disapprovingly, "Tut tut, you shouldn't provoke those Gryffindorks... The rest of the school might think that they're saints, but they're still going to hex you, five to one, if you anger them."  
  
Draco had protested that Crabbe and Goyle had been with him, so it technically wasn't five to one.  
  
Ravyn had maintained that they didn't count. Draco had shrugged, and their conversation had then shifted to what each was planning to do for vacation, and such. Fallon tuned it out.  
  
There were too many confusing things in her mind, after the conclusion of this year. Why couldn't things stay simple? Everything had been so easy, so stress-free, when she had been a child and her days had consisted of going about her business and hating Cassius Warrington.   
  
Things had changed. And she did not know exactly what to think or do.  
  
***  
End Chapter 13  
***  
  
Wheee! One more chapter.... and then, perhaps, an epilogue. w00t! 


	14. Chapter 14

That summer, Fallon spent a lot of her time at the Callais summer house on the beach. Philippe had been hired to teach Arithmancy at Beauxbatons the next term, as their Arithmancy Professor, Monsieur Chapelle, was assuming the position of Interim Headmaster while Madame Maxime took an indefinite leave of absence to go on a special mission.  
  
Philippe had enjoyed his year at Hogwarts; the students had been friendly to him, the food, although not nearly as good as French cuisine, was excellent, and there were so many pretty girls! He was sure that Fallon and her group of friends broke hearts right and left.  
  
Fallon had laughed and scoffed at this belief: she and her friends, no matter how pretty, were Slytherins. This alone served as a deterrent for most of the boys. Moreover, some of her friends, such as Akasha, Morrigun, and Kate, were seeing Slytherin boys. And if a Slytherin girl was not scary enough on her own right, the risk of inciting a Slytherin boy's wrath certainly prevented the other boys from having such ideas.  
  
Philippe had smiled at her, and asked if this applied to her as well. Fallon had shrugged; she was not seeing anyone. But then, in the past five years, she had quite firmly established her reputation as the unchallenged bitch of Slytherin House, second to none in her pugnacious and merciless disposition.   
  
"But zere is also ze fact zat you, just like zose friends of yours, are ze object of a Slyzerin boy's affections, of course." Philippe had replied.   
  
"What? Who?" Fallon had been flabbergasted.   
  
"Ah, ze one zat you were dancing ze last dance at zat ball wis. 'E seems to... what is ze word... 'fancy' you vairy much. And you seem to like him vairy much as well."  
  
"WARRINGTON?! The git?!"  
  
Philippe had laughed, ruffled her hair, and told her that it was just an entirely harmless observation; she should think about it.  
  
***  
  
And think about it she did. Her and Cassius Warrington, in love?! What an utterly ridiculous idea! Just because she'd danced with him...  
  
But was it really all that ridiculous?   
  
All right, so he was an irritating git. But in all her recollection, no one else had ever been able to hack her off quite like he could. Sure, she'd certainly never been one to be overly concerned with pleasantries, and whenever someone had insulted or attacked her, she had never hesitated to make the offender take it back thrice over. But it was more a matter of principle than real anger. Somehow, almost all of her more intense emotions had always been centered on Warrington. No one else had ever been able to make her feel as keenly as he did.  
  
Although the question now was... what WAS the feeling?  
  
And... bloody hell... if she DID... as Philippe had said... love him... Fallon sighed. Love was, more or less, putting one's heart into another's hands. Something dangerous. She'd be torn to pieces if he were so inclined.  
  
Something that she'd always, always tried to avoid. Especially now, after the events of last year. Showing any type of weakness was a great risk.   
  
And then, she remembered that night, the night that had followed the worst day of her life. It was ironic that her first kiss, something that girls far more romantic than her claimed to be one of, if not THE most thrilling and happy moment of a girl's life, had occurred after something so terrible. She closed her eyes, and remembered that moment. Waking up from a nightmare, sitting up in his bed. Her clammy hands clenched around handfuls of his robe. How he'd looked startled and sleep-tousled and worried in the dim but luminous light of his wand. How he, a frown on his face, had rubbed her back and stroked her hair in a somewhat awkward, masculine sort of way, to calm her down. And then, he'd made a crack about Montague, and then told her to sleep some more. And something about the way he'd tried to do what he could to calm her, despite being discomfited and obviously unused to dealing with both a situation such as hers, and her in such an unnatural state, had made her kiss him. Something had told her that... all other things aside, if he were willing to do whatever he could to make her feel better in that situation, kissing him would somehow help take away the pain. It didn't really make much sense, but... somehow, at the time, she'd known that if they kissed, it would be free from the dirty carnality and hate that the nightmarish events earlier had been filled with. He had kissed her back, gently, soothingly, almost... if she dared say it... lovingly. And then, he'd pulled away, holding her at arm's length, realizing that had it not been for the circumstances earlier, it wouldn't have happened. And there had been something like pain in his eyes.  
  
And when she went back to England and Diagon Alley in August, she avoided him, although for completely different reasons than before.  
  
***  
  
That year, the arguments that she'd used to enjoy... grew hurtful. It somehow upset her when he sneered at her and called her a silly little twit. She hated calling him names and knowing that while she didn't mean it, he DID. She did not notice the girls giving each other knowing looks as they screamed, because she was too occupied in keeping her composure up and her emotions firmly out of sight.  
  
At the moment, they were having a flaming row. The 7th years had learned several charms to increase another person's benevolence. As far as Fallon could tell, the blasted things were simply very diluted versions of love and entrancement charms, and she'd remarked, in a rather snarky voice, that she was surprised that they were learning something so despicable.  
  
He'd sneered, and said that there was nothing wrong with making a person be nice to another, and perhaps she could use a few of them.  
  
It had just gone downhill from there.  
  
Now, it was after dinner, and they were in the Common Room, still screaming at each other. The other Slytherin students were present, although they gave the two who were bickering a wide berth. Warrington was wicked with a wand when angry; and Fallon... well, almost everyone in the house had seen the 6th year girl practicing such things as knife-fighting in an open stretch of floor in the corner of the Common Room. NOT one to approach when she was in a temper.  
  
"You're DESPICABLE if you want or need to use something like that to make a person act kindly towards you!" she was shrieking at Warrington, her beautiful face flushed with fury. He rolled his eyes.  
  
"So you've told me, Anderson. But what business of yours would it be? Bloody hell, you're worse than a bloke's mother!"  
  
"DON'T compare me to your mother, Warrington! Thank HEAVENS I'm not your mother! To have to see a son of mine think up something so horrid would be too much to bear!"  
  
"Since when was it MY fault? Flitwick was the one who taught them to us, forgive me if I learnt something in class today, I'm sure that sometime, you'll be able to comprehend that feeling... and besides, why do you care? I can do whatever I want with whatever I learn!"  
  
"Why do I care?! WHY DO I CARE?!? BECAUSE I LOVE YOU GODDAMMIT!" the furious, impassioned scream flew from her lips, and then, her eyes widened as deafening silence filled the room.  
  
No one spoke for a few seconds, and then Fallon herself broke the silence. Her voice was soft, full of disbelief and tinged with something that sounded suspiciously like despair as she spoke, "Oh bloody abominable sodding unholy HELL..."  
  
Morrigun and Akasha stepped forward briskly, and pushed the astonished pair into Morrigun's room. Morrigun looked at her friend, and then at Cassius, and cleared her throat, "Well, work it out, you two." And with that, Morrigun and Akasha walked out, and shut the door behind them, leaving Fallon and Warrington alone.  
  
Fallon sat heavily down on Akasha's couch, drawing her knees up to her chest and curling up into a ball. She felt like crying, but... she'd already shown way... way too much weakness to Warrington. She remembered how Flint used to tally up 'wins' in their battles. Well... the battles were over now, and she had lost the war.  
  
Belatedly, she became aware that he was speaking to her, and forced herself to look up at him. His expression was serious, solemn, even, and he was staring into her eyes, as if trying to figure something out. Fallon sighed and let him stare. He had won anyway.  
  
"Did you mean what you said?" he asked quietly. She couldn't speak, but the scared, miserable expression on her face was all he needed to see. Fallon Anderson was fearless, except for one thing. Personal weakness was something terrible for her. Cautiously, he sat down next to her, as if afraid that she might disappear if he were not careful, and everything would be wrong again.  
  
Her right hand was resting limply on her side, and gently, he took it in his, and looked at it, as if appraising it. The small appendage, the color of her skin, the nimble fingers, nails clipped short and practical. The hand had smacked him heaven knew how many times, thrown things, been balled into an angry fist... clung to his robe that one day, done magic, brewed her flawless potions... it was trembling slightly in his. She was frightened, and that made him feel bad. She should not be afraid... ever. Especially not of him. It would just be... wrong.  
  
He let go of her hand, and instead, used his hand to cup her chin. This time, it was he who initiated the kiss, and it was not wrong.  
  
It ended a moment later, and she opened those gorgeous, fiery dark eyes. And then she smiled. He was hers.  
  
***  
  
They were still locked together, his hands tangled in her hair and hers linked behind his neck, when Morrigun opened the door an hour later.  
  
The Prefect arched an eyebrow at the snogging couple, and cleared her throat, "So glad that you two have figured out that you can't live without each other, but I need to sleep sometime tonight."  
  
Warrington opened his eyes, and without letting go of the girl in his arms, steered both of them out the door and into the hallway.   
  
The girls trooped over, and Persephone's voice cut triumphantly through the air, "All right, pay up! I TOLD you they would start snogging at the beginning of this term!"  
  
And Fallon pulled away slightly at this. "You're actually all wrong. I snogged him long ago. You just don't know it. Perhaps you should all just pay ME."  
  
Various exclamations of surprise and amusement filled the hall, and Fallon ignored them all. Giving the git (he was still a git, and always would be... but he was HER git!) one last kiss, she pulled herself out of his arms, and smirked at him. "Cassius Warrington, if you ever use those charms, I will hurt you in ways that you can't even comprehend. Good night!"  
  
And, head held high, shoulders squared, she walked away to her dormitory. Warrington watched her leave, and grinned wryly to himself. She'd lead him on a merry chase... for as long as possible, if he had his way.  
  
At least things would never be boring. And... oh dear. She would soon realize that he'd forgotten to tell her that he loved her too. There would be a scene in the morning.  
  
***  
  
Fallon swept into the Great Hall with a big smile on her pretty face the next morning. Slaine, inspecting her nails as Vittorio Derrick poured her a glass of pumpkin juice, smiled at Xanne, who was sitting next to her.  
  
"Maybe they'll stop quarreling now."  
  
Fallon sat down at her customary place among her friends, and Cassius Warrington raised an eyebrow. "Sit with me."  
  
"Why should I?" she retorted archly, "I like it perfectly fine here."  
  
Within minutes, the two were bickering once again. Slaine rolled her eyes, "I spoke too soon."  
  
Kate shrugged expansively, "Ah... Fallon and Warrington... their love is an odd thing."  
  
At that moment, a blueberry flew across the table and hit Warrington in the face. Kate chuckled, and amended her statement.  
  
"But it's bloody hilarious to watch."  
  
***  
End chapter 14!!  
***  
  
w00t! La fin! Well, except for a short epilogue! ta-ta! 


	15. Epilogue

She was his. He was hers. They were out of Hogwarts, and gotten married in great pomp and splendour about a month after she'd finished her studies. They had kept in touch through her last year, and the owls had flown back and forth every week with jolly, snappy, bantering letters. The ring had come at Christmastime, and he'd asked her at Hogsmeade, after they'd quarreled over the bill at the Three Broomsticks. She'd laughed, and accepted. He'd called her a twit, and she'd retaliated. Then, he had kissed her outside, and she'd been warm despite the snow swirling in the icy winter wind, which had picked up her hair and ruffled her cloak.  
  
And today, they had married. All their friends had been there to watch, and it had been a splendid wedding. They had sworn to love, respect, and take care of each other for the rest of their lives. And a whole lot of other sappy stuff that Fallon had scoffed about when she'd learnt that she had to say them.  
  
It was their wedding night. Things were going... swimmingly.  
  
"NO! Don't you DARE rip the robes, Cassius Warrington!!"  
  
"But they have so many bloody fastenings, woman!"  
  
"Well that's just too bad! You put ONE tear into them, and you're sleeping on the couch!"  
  
"The couch is fine," he gave her a lascivious smirk, twirling a strand of her hair in his fingers, "From what Flint has said, there are many, many things that can be done on the couch..."  
  
Fallon groaned and scowled fiercely at him, "That's NOT what I meant! And you KNOW it!"  
  
He smiled at her disarmingly, a smile that Fallon was CERTAIN that the Quidditch teams perfected in the locker rooms after games and practices until the mirrors on the walls offered them sexual favors.   
  
"Don't SMILE at me, you git! It makes things UNFAIR!"  
  
His smile widened, and he stepped forward, pressing his lips against hers in a deep, long kiss.   
  
She tried to resist. Really... REALLY, she did. But his lips were so warm, and he was holding her close, conveying a million things through his touch that were truly too sappy to be allowed to be put into words, and she found herself relenting.  
  
RIP!  
  
She yanked herself out of his arms, and saw that the robes had been torn. One shoulder was bared. And there would be more, if she didn't hold it up.  
  
She glared venomously at him, "Do you know how bloody much these cost?!"  
  
He'd shrugged, and raked her form from head to toe and then back. And then, he had the audacity to smile that smile at her again. And Fallon once again reflected that life was not fair.  
  
"You look more beautiful without them anyway," he remarked with a scorchingly appreciative gaze, before once again pulling her close.   
  
She made a mental note, as she kissed him back fervently, to rail at him about the robes next morning. She WOULD! Really!!  
  
***  
FIN!!  
*** 


End file.
